Ides of March
by wouldtheywriteasongforyou
Summary: Beware the Ides of March. A hundred drabbles for the HPFC Het-tastic Drabble-athon (March 2014). Fanon and canon pairings. I hope I survive this. Shakespeare and Merlin, help me.
1. hermione&neville: safe haven (friends)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Beware the Ides of March. No, really.**

For the month of March, I have accepted the 100 prompt drabble challenge presented by the lovely Bexasaurus :) This collection will be any pairing, any rating T or below, and will be a hundred drabbles that centre on the prompt. I hope I survive this. xoxo Safari

Written for "1. Friends"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "5. Daydream"

1 March 2014. Pairing: Hermione&Neville. Inspired by: "We Are Going to Be Friends" – The White Stripes. Word Count: 550

**"You're lucky to have two best friends, Hermione."**

* * *

**Safe Haven**

[-]

September First marked the beginning of fall term. Over the summer, Hermione had convinced herself that Hogwarts was merely a castle in the clouds that she had dreamt up. She was positive any moment her mum would wake her from her daydream of magic, You-Know-Who, and friends.

But no, here she was at King's Cross Station, back again for a second year. That morning, she had been so relieved when her parents told her _"Hurry up, Hermione, you're going to be late!"_ because it meant that the magical world had been real.

She hugged her parents in goodbye and dashed onto the Hogwarts Express. She could not wait to see Harry and Ron again, her first two true friends. Guiltily, Hermione knew she was probably going to talk their ears off the whole train ride to the castle, but she couldn't find it in herself to care very much because they needed to know just how much she had missed them over the summer holidays.

When she arrived at their usual compartment, though, it was empty. Hermione knew Harry and Ron had no sense of time, so their tardiness did not bother her at first. However, as the minutes ticked by, Hermione began to worry. Had they found someone else to sit with? Did they befriend her last year only out of pity? Did they not like her anymore?

A tap on the sliding door jolted her out of her thoughts. "Yes?" she asked.

The door opened and a round-faced boy with half-healed scabs on his wrists peered in. "May I sit here, Hermione?"

"Of course, Neville," she smiled brightly and shifted her belongings to make room for him.

"Thanks," he said gratefully. He glanced around in confusion. "Where are Ron and Harry?"

She bit her lip. "I don't actually know," she admitted reluctantly. Not knowing things was a weakness Hermione loathed to confess, but she trusted Neville not to ridicule her vulnerability.

"I haven't seen them on the train; perhaps they found another way to get to Hogwarts?" he offered in explanation. His voice was slightly raw and scratchy as if someone had noosed a rope around his vocal chords – Hermione figured he was fighting a cold at the moment.

"Another way? I thought students could only go to Hogwarts by train."

Shrugging, Neville replied: "And the Killing Curse should have killed Harry. The magic world is flexible regarding rules of logic."

"Oh." She was used to everything having an exact answer, and this newfound ambiguity made her world off-balance.

They sat in contemplative silence for a few moments before Neville randomly said, "You're lucky to have two best friends, Hermione."

Curiously, Hermione looked at him with new eyes. She knew she was lucky to even have friends at all, but she thought she had been the only one at Hogwarts who struggled socially. She had assumed that despite Neville's awkwardness, he had found his own group of friends like she had found Harry and Ron.

Due to her firsthand experience with insecurity, she knew what Neville must be feeling. "I have three," she said sincerely. "Harry, Ron, and you."

She would never know that her words saved an unconfident boy from committing suicide because until he had met her, he'd felt that the world did not need him.

[-]


	2. nagini&vold: queen of snakes (master)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Nagini is hella scarier than Voldy.**

Written for "2. Master"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "3. crack pairing"

1 March 2014. Pairing: Nagini&Voldemort. Word Count: 179

**There was no doubt that his blood would taste exquisite.**

* * *

**Queen of Snakes**

[-]

Nagini tolerated Voldemort because he blatantly worshipped her. He knew that she wasn't an ordinary snake – she was a queen in the serpentine kingdom, and he acknowledged her royal heritage by placing her in a superior hierarchy compared to his Death Eater doppelgangers. It pleased her endlessly that he consulted and valued her opinions whenever he was faced with a dilemma concerning world domination.

When he asked her the ultimate favour – to house a fragment of his soul inside of her – she agreed without too much trepidation. Although being a living Horcrux would be rather agonizing to bear, Nagini would gain closer access to his mind. His soul and brain were now more vulnerable for her to manipulate in her favour without his realisation.

And if the time came when she no longer wished to be shackled to her so-called 'Master'? Nagini smirked to herself: she bet Lord Voldemort would look a lot better with fatal puncture wounds decorating his throat. Her tongue flicked out in an appreciative hiss – there was no doubt that his blood would taste exquisite.

[-]


	3. ron&hermione: car keys (mini)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Two minutes at a time.**

Written for "3. mini"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "4. House of Gryffindor"

1 March 2014. Pairing: Hermione&Ron Word Count: 248

**"But – but, Hermione, it's a _minivan_."**

* * *

**Car Keys**

[-]

"What _is_ that?"

"Your new car," Hermione Granger-Weasley told her husband matter-of-factly. They were standing in the garage and looking at the vehicle parked innocently in the space where Ron's sports car had once been. "I took the liberty of trading in your Jaguar for this automobile as congratulations for passing your driving exam the proper Muggle way this time."

Ron stared at the could-be-tan-could-be-brown-could-be-any-thing-but-his-beloved-Jaguar with revulsion. "But – but, Hermione, it's a _minivan_." He whispered out the last word as if it were a taboo that could potentially bring the Dark Lord back to life.

She sighed. "Honestly, Ronald. The minivan is a practical and safe which is exactly what a guy like you needs." Hermione dropped the car keys into Ron's reluctant hand. "You have two children; try to be the adult here. You cannot expect for them to have been adequately protected in that steel two-passenger death trap you used to drive. "

He pouted. "But you're their chauffeur, not me. Why couldn't you trade in _your_ car?"

Hermione arched her eyebrows. "Must I do everything around here?" she asked rhetorically, for Ron knew by now not to answer her when she used that tone of voice with him.

"No, of course not, honey," he acquiesced with an internal sigh. "Thank you," he said with false appreciation and kissed the top of her head.

She rolled her eyes at his attempt to placate her. "And don't you dare try to trade it back in, Ronald Weasley."

His response was a muttered swear word.

[-]


	4. tonks&remus: demons (chocolate)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Hershey's, Milky Way, Kitkat, Nestlé Crunch, M&M, Snickers, Twix**

Written for "4. Chocolate"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "7. solace"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "4. House of Hufflepuff"

2 March 2014. Pairing: Tonks&Remus. Inspired by: "Sad Beautiful Tragic" – Taylor Swift; "Demons" – Imagine Dragons. Word Count: 411

**You've got your demons, and darling, they all look like me.**

* * *

**Demons**

[-]

Someone is screaming. I run to the bedroom and find you trapped within your sleeping mind. The nightmares have always plagued you, but within these past few weeks it seems as if they are attacking you with a renewed intensity. I try to wake you but it's a futile attempt to release you from your anxieties. When you open your eyes, it takes a few minutes for the demons to retreat back into the recesses of your mind. The shadows of your fears lurking behind your eyelids terrifies me but I will never admit that to you.

"Have some chocolate," I offer with a reassuring smile. "It'll help."

Your mind hasn't fully recovered from whatever it is you dream of, but you accept the nougat anyway. "You and your chocolate, darling," you say hoarsely in a knowing voice.

It's a new moon tonight, and our room is darkened so that all we can see of each other is our silhouettes. I want to turn on the lamplight and see your face, but I am positive you'll morph your features into a mask of confidence to pacify me. I climb into bed next to you and wrap you tightly into my arms. You nibble on the chocolate but you're slightly trembling. I feel utterly useless and wish that I knew of a way to banish your fears.

"Dora," I begin slowly. You tense up as you predict what my next words will be but I say them aloud anyway. "These nightmares have been going on for awhile. Do you want to talk about them?"

"I'm not a child," you say petulantly at the subconscious edge of condescension colouring my tone.

I stroke your hair gently. "I know," I say. "I want to help you, Dora. Tell me what's wrong, please?"

You're silent for a moment. Then, you whisper: "You left me. You left me once; how do I know that you won't do it again?"

"Because I love you," I answer in the best way I know how. "I will never hurt you again."

It's the truth and everything you want to hear, but as you let sleep claim you once more, I start to doubt my words. I left you once to protect you yet that was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. However, it seems that staying with you does not provide any solace either, for you've got your demons, and darling, they all look like me.

[-]


	5. pansy&greyback: skin of scars (cruel)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "5. cruel"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "4. House of Slytherin"; 335 Pairing Challenge "Pansy&Fenrir"

2 March 2014. Pairing: Pansy&Greyback. Word Count: 419

**She would never be beautiful again.**

* * *

**Skin of Scars**

[-]

Life was cruel to Pansy. She had been born into a superficial society where flaws and scars were perceived as a sign of weakness, and as a girl, the only thing she had working in her favour was her beauty.

She stares at the bathroom mirror, tilting her face so the sunlight cascades over the claw marks of her past. The raised scratches web over her shoulders, up the left side of her neck, and form an oblique jagged path from her jaw to her hairline. He had taken his time carving a grotesque doll out of her, marring her lips so that one would always be slightly raised in a crooked smirk and breaking her nose so it could never heal straight.

She would never be beautiful again.

It was May 1998 when she lost herself. At the time, she knew it would be a mistake to disobey her survival instincts, but Draco had stayed behind in the castle and she had to make sure he would be all right. He was strong and brave but Pansy knew he wasn't strong _enough_ or brave _enough_ to kill. She doubled back and entered Hogwarts to find and force him to flee with her.

After her earlier allegation that everyone should sacrifice Potter, Pansy knew her return into the battle scene would not be viewed favourably. She hid in an alcove and Disillusioned herself so that she resembled the Mudblood named Lavender Brown. It seemed to have worked, for everyone on the Light side she encountered treated her as a comrade.

Perhaps her disillusion worked a little _too_ well, she notes. She had been on one of the staircases in the Great Hall searching through the hexes and cloaked bleeding figures for Draco when the werewolf, Greyback, had marked her as his next victim. Due to her charm that altered her facial features, he did not realise she was actually a Pureblood beneath her Mudblood disguise. She'd seen him coming and was in the process of forming a _Protego_ when a stunner spiralled out of nowhere and hit her in the chest. Pansy fell backwards over the railing in a paralysed crumpled heap, and he had been there to catch her with those claws that were eager to rip and shred her skin.

She realises that she is lucky to be alive, but as she looks at her disfigured body and experiences the pain of being a handicapped social reject, Pansy thinks that death would have been the better alternative.

[-]


	6. lilyluna&teddy: punch line (pretty)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: MODERN!AU, OKAY? OKAY. Like the-club-can't-handle-me-right-now kind of AU.**

Written for "6. pretty"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "44. speechless"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "4. House of Ravenclaw"; Monthly Poetry Flood Competition "March 2014: tired"

2 March 2014. Pairing: LilyLuna&Teddy. Inspired by: "Speechless" – Lady Gaga. Word Count: 286

**She wanted it all.**

* * *

**Punch Line**

[-]

She wanted it all:  
the dark nights, cigarette smoke clouds, bass vibrating in her bones,  
glossed on lipstick smiles, and Betty Boop spider eyelashes.

(He said no.)

She wanted to forget her own name  
and have countless nights partying with strangers  
under a disco ball of moonlight.

She wanted to scrub herself clean of her silver spoon heritage.  
She wanted to be the rebel her celebrity mother would be ashamed of  
and attempt to hide from the front cover tabloids.

(He said she would regret it.)

She was tired of being the pretty strait-laced doll  
prim and proper  
pinky-up and sipping tea  
when she'd rather salute with her middle finger and toss back shots.

(He said _don't do it, please_.)

She wanted it all:  
his inked denim, dilated eyes, and cigarette stained lies.  
She wanted drunk bar fights with people she didn't know  
whiskey on her breath and alcohol poisoning her liver.  
She wanted to fly as high as a kite  
and eat the stars.

(He said _you're better than this_.)

She wanted slurred promises and to be saved  
from her bubble dreams and Cupid's misplaced arrow.  
She wanted an eagle's wings to fly  
and a raven's claw to cut the balloon string that tied her down to Earth.

(He said he could save her.)

She wanted a crown of wisdom  
so she may escape and surpass her mother's reign.  
She wanted to meet someone who could make her speechless  
and would never make her speak the truth again.

(He said _I won't let you die._)

She wanted a broken heart  
and tired lifeless eyes.

She wanted. She wanted. She wanted.

She wanted to never love again.

(He said _I love you_ a little too late.)

[-]


	7. raven&slyth: castle of dreams (problems)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Will someone please tell me what the Rowena&Salazar ship name is?**

Written for "7. problems"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "5. Founders Era"

2 March 2014. Pairing: Rowena&Salazar. Word Count: 398

**"And why should it be our responsibility to teach these children?"**

* * *

**Castle of Her Dreams**

[-]

"I want to start a school where we will teach magic to young witches and wizard," she says in the middle of their dinner meal.

Salazar arches an eyebrow but does not comment verbally. His wife often invented such frivolous ideas that were good in theory but she never had the ambition to develop or follow-through with her wishes.

"I'm serious, Sal!" she laughs, for she is all-too-aware of her flightiness. "Think of it: eager and bright students waiting for us to teach them all that we know in a controlled and safe environment for learning magic."

He frowns at Rowena's last comment about the 'controlled and safe environment'. The death of their son is still a sore spot for Salazar even seven years later. Coronus was still experimenting with his magic when his tongue accidentally stuttered out the Killing Curse. He was killed instantly and painlessly – Salazar still thanks the deities above that it hadn't been the Cruciatus Curse – but the Dark Arts has been a sore spot between Rowena and Salazar ever since.

"And why should it be our responsibility to teach these children?" he inquires. "Why are they unable to learn magic from their parents like you and I did?"

Rowena responds neutrally: "Perhaps their parents do not know what is best for their child."

His temper flares at her not-so-subtle jibe. His voice snaps out, "I am also guessing you would want to teach every magical being and not simply just Purebloods?"

"Of course," she says definitively.

Salazar does not understand how his wife believes Mudbloods or half-breeds are of the same calibre as Purebloods, and so he scoffs at her silly notions of equality. "There are too many problems and flaws with this school of magic you want to open," he sneers. "It will never work."

However, he has miscalculated her desire to see this dream through. She finds the castle of her dreams in the highlands of Scotland, recruits two of her long-time friends to help start the school, and over time pardons him and his degrading words.

Over the years, Salazar holds his tongue about the other issues he has concerning the school they have named Hogwarts. In spite of his best efforts, though, he forgets to choke back his words one day when it comes to the admittance of those without pure blood.

Rowena does not forgive him this time.

[-]


	8. frank&alice: white lie (touch)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I can seem to only write Frank and Alice post-Cruciatus torture.**

Written for "8. touch"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "5. Marauders Era"; MEW tumblr challenge "Perhaps I am stronger than I think"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp "38. blank"

2 March 2014. Pairing: Frank&Alice. Word Count: 322

**"Do I know you?"**

* * *

**White Lie**

[-]

She was out of touch with reality and had no idea how to regain her sanity. The walls confining her into this room were white, hospital white, pure white, snow white, so white. Her eyes were blinded with the never-ending illusion painted around her. Alice felt cornered and so very lost. She wanted to leave this place and return to the happy life she was sure she had been living before . . . before . . .

Why couldn't she remember? It was as if her mind had locked itself and prevented her from accessing her own memories. Alice prided herself for her excellent and sharp brain – why was she drawing a blank now?

A thought floated to the forefront of her mind: perhaps she was trying to protect her psyche from remembering something painful? _But what had happened to her_? How had she survived seemingly unscathed besides a broken mind? Maybe she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, Alice mused in answer.

A warm hand touched hers. Surprisingly, she was not startled by the contact. Alice turned her head and smiled at the nice-looking man whose fingers were interlocked with her own. She did not know his name but she felt comfortable in the presence of this familiar stranger.

"Where am I?" he asked, glancing at the white room confusedly.

"Next to me," she answered, not realising that she had misinterpreted his question. "Where you belong." She did not know why she said that out of all things, but it felt right.

He accepted her answer with a hesitant nod and then looked at her with eyes that did not recognise her face. "Hi, I'm Frank," he introduced himself. "Do I know you?"

Her heart splintered at the stranger's frank words. Presently, Alice did not know exactly who this Frank person was or his significance to her but her subconscious had realised he'd said something so very wrong.

[-]


	9. lilyluna&albussev: icarus (try)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Using both of their first names seemed a bit pretentious (not that I have a problem with sounding pretentious :). Please note that Lily is Lily Luna and Albus is Albus Severus.**

Written for "9. try"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "5. Next Gen era"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "33. believe"

2 March 2014. Pairing: LilyLuna&AlbusSev. Word Count: 311

**"You're just jealous because you want wings, too."**

* * *

**Icarus**

[-]

"What are you doing, Lily?"

"I'm building wings so that I can fly."

"That isn't going to work. Haven't you heard of the Greek tragedy about Icarus?"

"Icarus constructed wings out of wax and flew too close to the sun. _I_ am using magic and will be trying to fly to the moon. Honestly, Albus, did you think I hadn't thought this plan through?"

"Um, duh? And you're only twelve, Lily. You aren't allowed to perform magic legally at home yet."

"I'm sure Minister Shackledbolt has better things to do with his time than apprehending adolescents for the use of underage magic."

"Remember that story about the Umbridge witch? There's bound to be another hag like her in the Ministry who absolutely cannot wait to accuse you of breaking the law."

"Oh, sod off, Al. You're just jealous because you want wings, too."

"Why would I want wings? I fly quite well with my broomstick, thank you very much."

"But can your broomstick take you to the moon?"

"Neither will your wings, you know. Why don't you go the Muggle way and use a rocket ship?"

"Yeah, that'll go over well with Mum and Dad."

"What's so special about the moon anyway?"

"I don't really know, but I believe Teddy doesn't seem to like it that much. I wanted to fly up there and tell the man on the moon to be nicer to Teddy."

"Oh. I see. Well, here, make this part bend at a thirty-degree angle instead if you plan on gliding in jet streams. And try to equalise the weight of your wings – you won't have as much aerodynamic power if one wing is a few feathers heavier."

"Thanks, Al!"

"You're welcome. Remember to stay away from the sun and fly at a medium altitude. Tell the man on the moon I said hello, all right?"

"Will do!"

[-]


	10. hannah&neville: umbrella girl (park)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I love Hyde park – especially in the spring time :)**

Written for "10. park"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "5. Trio era"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "4. sunshine"; Duct Tape Competition "Pink Zebra"

3 March 2014. Pairing: Hannah&Neville. Word Count: 496

**"You're the thunderstorm."**

* * *

**Umbrella Girl**

[-]

Over in West London, the trees had begun to branch out and bud. The grey winter sky was beginning to gradually shed its blanket of snow clouds in favour of a lighter, springy patchwork quilt of sky blue. It was a beautiful spring day, and Neville smiled to himself as he entered through the grand Queen Elizabeth Gate leading into Hyde Park.

The sunshine filtered its way through the canopy and left everything it touched coated in a golden glow. The park was still damp from a morning rain shower which made the air heavy with the past. Neville stuffed his hands into the pockets of his grey pea coat and took his time meandering along the park's gravel pathways. The summer after Fifth Year was the last time Neville had been in Hyde Park; now, three years later, a few renovations had been made but the park was pretty much as he remembered. He preferred Hyde Park over any of the other royal parks because the vegetation and people there had a bit more personality than in any other corner of London.

If memory served him right, Neville recalled a park bench just around that bend in the path. Gran had liked to sit with him there since the bench offered a nice view overlooking the Serpentine. The lake had been filled with swimmers back in the summer, but now only a few boaters floated upon the water's surface.

As he approached his bench, he noticed that it was occupied by a stranger. Neville glanced fleetingly at the person before he sat down next to her. She was dressed peculiarly in a tie-dyed windbreaker monogrammed with the letters HAI and dark jeans with knee-high navy Wellies. What was really odd about her, though, was that she was wearing Ray Bans sunnies whilst holding an open hounds-tooth printed umbrella over herself.

"Nice day out, eh?" Neville said politely, gesturing vaguely to the sunshine-filled day.

Her lips quirked into a half-smile. "Soon it'll be raining," she replied cryptically.

He furrowed his brow at her response. "Is that why you're dressed like that?" he asked, motioning to her raingear. "So that you're prepared for the rain?" Her quiet personality was clashing with the loud colours she dressed herself in, and Neville found that looking at her for too long was like looking at the blinding, beautiful sun.

"Maybe," she shrugged. "I don't really know."

Neville found himself admiring the way she seemed so comfortable in her own skin. She was the type of person who unknowingly drew positive attention to herelf. After three years of wartime darkness, he enjoyed soaking up the sunlight's warmth as he basked in her brilliant radiance.

"You're the thunderstorm," she told him and shifted closer to him so her umbrella sheltered them both. "There's a raincloud hovering right above your head."

Neville looked up but saw nothing there. She nudged him gently with her shoulder and said: "Don't worry; I've got you covered."

[-]


	11. myrtle&riddlejr: cracked pipes (party)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: muggle!AU, I guess? People like for me to warn for that but I never know when my writing falls out of the limits of canon :) Oh, but I should probably warn that this drabble contains drug use. **

Written for "11. party"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "5. Riddle era"; Duct Tape Competition "Leopard"

5 March 2014. Pairing: Myrtle&TomRiddleJr. Word Count: 482

**- Do you trust me? -**

* * *

**Cracked Pipes**

[-]

_- So you want to go to a _real _party? –_

She remembered the glint in his obsidian eyes and the restless energy leaking from his pores. How could she have said no to him?

_- You'll be the first to see the secret to my success. –_

The desire to be the most envied girl in her Year (the great Tom Riddle had specifically singled her out!) clouded Myrtle's judgment. She had blindly followed him inside of that cursed bathroom and eagerly waited for him to entrust her with his secrets.

_- They will never laugh at you again. That's what you want, isn't it, doll? You want to be the centre of attention and to be admired. You want to claim power and demand respect from those who have mercilessly teased you. You want to be noticed instead of being known as the one who blends into the background. –_

She should have been wary of him the moment he had made that offer he knew she could not refuse. The fervent tone and the manipulative power he exuded should have been a warning sign that he did not have her best interests in mind and was only going to use her for his personal gain.

Tom Riddle had tempted her with the sin of power and she had been a terrible fool for accepting his lies.

_- Close your eyes. -_

She had blindly obeyed his command_. _

_- Do you trust me? -_

How was she supposed to answer that_?_

_- You'll feel like royalty in a moment. Be patient. -_

Myrtle remembered the heat of the flame singeing her fragile translucent wings for daring to fly too close to someone who burned as brightly as Tom Riddle did. She kept her eyes closed and let him detach her from reality with one exhale at a time. He was as deadly as the drug he was administering to her.

_- You feel better yet? -_

She was dying with each furious pound of her heartbeat. The sky was falling right outside of the bathroom. Myrtle welcomed the end and tried to fly higher so she could touch the sky.

_- Let me help you. -_

Her eyes were still squeezed shut as he added another dose to the pipe she was smoking. The hallucinated world the drug created was beautiful and covered in glass shards of white powder. She inhaled the rainbow confetti storm and let herself soar until her bones ached with the effort required to live.

_- I can take away the pain. I can make you feel so alive. Just open your eyes and look at me. -_

Riddle spoke in riddles and was a paradox wrapped in a shield of oxymorons. She remembered the glint in his ruby eyes and the psychotic energy humming on the surface of his skin.

How could she have said no to him?

[-]


	12. rose&scorpius: tidal wave (break)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: **

Written for "12. break"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"; Monthly Poetry Flood "March 2014: tired"

5 March 2014. Pairing: Rose&Scorpius. Inspired by: "Short, Fast, and Loud" - Fall Out Boy. Word Count: 190

**He wants to catch her before she shatters. **

* * *

**Tidal Wave**

[-]

She's shallow like the shoreline during low tide

Just another mermaid who watches her dreams break like the waves.

She stares at the mirrored lake, idly twirling her hair

round and round.

She's drowning in oxygen and salt streaks down from her ocean eyes.

She's tired of crashing and pounding against the rocky cliffs

when she knows the earth won't move for her.

The seas won't part and the skies won't cry

and it is yesterday's mistakes that weathers her heart down.

.

He's deeper than the ocean floor and is a hurricane in the making

Just another star who fell down to Earth before its time to leave the heavens.

He stares at a rose by any other name

and wonders if she knows she's breaking herself apart

petal by petal.

He's drowning in words he should have said and regret stems in the pit of his soul.

He wants to catch her before she shatters

but she wraps herself in thorns and won't let him near.

The moon pulls and tugs them in opposite directions

and it's nature and gravity working in cruel tandem to keep them separated.

[-]


	13. peter&lily: bridges burned (nobody)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: **

Written for "13. nobody"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"

5 March 2014. Pairing: Peter&Lily. Word Count: 291

**You replaced me. **

* * *

**Bridges Burned**

[-]

You replaced me. Because of you, I turned into _this_. A nobody. They tossed me away as if I was a useless piece of rubbish, and it's your entire fault. We were the Marauders, four people with the same soul and the world cupped in our hands, but you rose up from the mud and blinded them with your dirty blood.

Prongs was the most vulnerable to your witchcraft. You casted your wicked spells upon him and tainted his heart. He believed he was in love, but I knew better. A girl like you could never be satisfied by something as trivial as love.

Padfoot wasn't any better. He was not as infatuated by your charms and so you were unable to corrupt him but he still believed you to be pure and holy. You smiled with those blood orange lips but your emerald eyes were jaded and dark with ulterior motives.

Moony thought you were a kindred spirit and fancied you in a quiet book-ish sort of way. You had him wound around your pinkie finger and ready to cater to your every whim.

But I, stupid dim-witted Peter Pettigrew, knew the truth about you. I was the only one who could see the monster behind the translucent innocuous façade. You were afraid of me exposing your secret, so you told them to shun and treat me like an outcast. Because of you, I was torn away from the only people who had ever given a damn about me.

Did you think you could get away with that, Evans? Did you believe I would be all right with you stealing my life?

Your death was your own fault. I was just the match waiting for the right moment to strike.

[-]


	14. sirius&marlene:last words (looking back)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: uGH I don't think I did the flashback thing right. **

Written for "14. looking back"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"

5 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Marlene. Word Count: 461

**All he knows is that it wasn't "I love you".**

* * *

**Last Words**

[-]

His pillow still smells of her shampoo. He gently runs a hand over the fabric that is tattooed with the scent memory of her. Has it really been eighteen hours since she had left the safety of their flat? Sirius remembers her saying something about Diagon Alley and Gringotts that morning but he had muffled out her words by placing a pillow over his ears.

Now he will never know what her last words were to him.

After she had Apparated away, there had been that slight delay in time when the world seemed to revolve a little bit slower because their souls had been separated by distance. Sirius had spent the time alternating between watching the telly or the clock. Once seven hours had passed since her departure, though, he had begun to worry for Marlene's safety. She despised shopping, so a trip to the bank and Diagon Alley would never take her this long.

Dumbledore's phoenix patronus flew into the flat right when Sirius had been about to Apparate to Diagon Alley.

"I'm sorry," the bird had said in Dumbledore's voice. "There was an ambush in Diagon Alley this morning. We suspect it was the work of Death Eaters. Five of our own lost their lives in the surprise attack. I'm sorry, Sirius, but Marlene McKinnon died at 9.17 this morning. Her spinal cord was hit with the Killing Curse. I can assure you that her death was quick and painless. She did not suffer."

He had acted purely on instinct when he threw a book at the translucent patronus. The phoenix dissipated immediately at the physical contact and had left Sirius alone in a too-empty flat.

Sirius hasn't moved a centimetre since Dumbledore had informed him of Marlene's death. It is now ten hours since he received the message and he is still staring blankly at the flat that displays a life made for two people to share. Sirius notices for the first time just how much of his life Marlene occupied. That is _her_ lipstick rimmed on the slightly chipped tea cup she favoured in the mornings. That is _her_ post on the counter waiting to be opened by her fingers. That is _her_ black dog waiting at the door for a girl who will never return home.

He tries not to forget her but the memory of Marlene is growing staler with each moment his soul has to gasp for breath without her. Looking back, he realises he cannot remember his last words to her either. Sirius can't remember saying anything of remote importance. All he knows is that it wasn't "I love you". They had never declared the over-used phrase to each other but Sirius finds himself wishing they had before they'd missed their chance.

[-]


	15. ron&hermione: dark blue TN (over)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Here's another muggle!au because I don't really know why but I felt like Americanising this pair. **

Written for "15. over"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "10. Emptiness"

6 March 2014. Pairing: Ron&Hermione. Inspired by: "Dark Blue Tennessee" - Taylor Swift. Word Count: 338

**"Won't you come back to me?"**

* * *

**Dark Blue Tennessee**

[-]

He says, "I bought myself a new apartment in the city - wouldn't you have hated that?" There's a heavy pause filled with too many words that will never be said. He exhales gustily and mutters, "I'm getting by with the broken heart you've left me with." He hangs up the phone and she's left whispering her regrets to a dial tone.

"Missing you like this is not what I wanted," Hermione confesses to a boy who isn't listening. "Won't you come back to me? I'll be here today and tomorrow in dark blue Tennessee."

She was the one who gave up on them first and had said that their relationship was over. Everyone had always believed that they would be the lucky ones who would grow old together and never fall out of love, but Hermione wasn't the type of girl who wanted to settle down and put her life on hold for a romantic relationship. There was so much the world had to offer her and she wanted to accept as many opportunities she could. When she had broken things off with Ron, though, she hadn't expected for their friendship to suffer in collateral damage or that she would feel so remorseful about her decision.

He loved her more than she had loved him but his pride prevents him from begging her to change her mind and take him back. He is lying when he says he moved across the country to L.A. when in reality he is just hiding out on the other side of town. Ron stares out his apartment window and can see in his mind's eye the path leading up to her front door seven miles away. His heart wants him to go over to her but he can't make himself go through the pain of a rejection again.

"Missing you like this is not what I wanted," he says to an apartment filled with emptiness. "Won't you come back to me? I'll be here today and tomorrow in dark blue Tennessee."

[-]


	16. sirius&marlene: unintentionally (hurt)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I'm vague with details in this drabble, but I hope you understand me anyway.**

Written for "16. hurt"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "15. butterflies in your stomach"

6 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Marlene. Word Count: 295

**Love is making him choose.**

* * *

**Unintentionally**

[-]

Love hurts.

It's unpredictable, unintentional, and illogical.

It tears your heart apart and makes your insides burn. Whenever he is nearby, there's a swarm of butterflies beating against the walls of your stomach but you refuse to let them be free.

You can't tell him you love him. You can't tell him because he's too busy drowning in another girl's lips. You can't tell him that she's a mud puddle and you're the endless ocean. You can't tell him anything.

Love is the immature boy you swore you hated. It's the boy who became your best mate. It's the boy who you want to be yours for forever.

Love is staring at him and hoping that he'll read your mind because you're not brave enough to say that you want to erase your friendship in hopes of a romantic relationship.

Sirius Black is everything you have ever wanted and everything you cannot have. He's the star on top of the Christmas tree that you cannot reach. He's the salt on your cheeks and the sugar on your tongue. His eyes promise dark sinful nights but that smile of his says something completely different.

You want all of him. You want him so much that it hurts.

Love is dying.

It's when you find yourself cornered in an alleyway with no escape. Death Eaters block out the sunlight until you're shrouded in the shadows. They have his best mate at wandpoint but they also have you on the brink of death, too.

Love is making him choose. He can only save one of you. You're staring at the end of his wand tip and both of you know that he has to kill you before they do.

Love is forgiving him anyway.

Love hurts. It hurts-hurts-hurts.

[-]


	17. harry&ginny: love me (look)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: It's been a while since I've written this pairing. **

Written for "17. look"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "6. drabble"

6 March 2014. Pairing: Harry&Ginny. Word Count: 179

**My love for Harry is practically written in my DNA.**

* * *

**Love Me**

[-]

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me anymore," he demands.

I can't say that, and he knows why. "Harry . . ." He seems to think that by ending our relationship, Tom will disregard me and spare my life.

"Ginny," Harry nearly begs. "Please. This has to be done. Say you don't love me."

Doesn't he understand that asking me to say I don't love him is equivalent to me declaring my name isn't Ginevra or that I do not have red hair? My love for Harry is practically written in my DNA. I could never change the way I feel about him.

"Look, just tell everyone that it was a mutual split," I suggest. "But I refuse to say that I do not love you."

His green eyes pierce my heart. "And you think that I am all right with this faux break-up?"

"It was your idea," I mutter.

He sighs. "It's for the greater good," Harry explains but I don't know which of the two of us he is trying to convince.

[-]


	18. lilyluna&scorpius: star lilies (dreamed)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "18. dreamed"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "1. stars"

7 March 2014. Pairing: lilyluna&scorpius. Word Count: 215

**She was interested in the stars, and he was interested in flowers.**

* * *

**Stargazer Lilies**

[-]

She had dreamed of becoming an astronomer when she was younger. Her father would take her outside each night to look at the stars, and then he would explain the science behind the clouds of celestial gas and the mythology that correlated to each constellation.

He had dreamed of becoming a botanist. His parents scoffed at such a useless time-waster of a hobby and pressured him into becoming an astronomer like a notable great-great-great-great-great-great-great Pureblood grandfather of his had been. Scorpius could care less about his ancestry or the specks of dust that lit up the night sky - he would rather spend his time digging in the brown dirt and cultivating flowers so they would bloom in a firework show of colours.

They were partnered together in Advanced Astronomy. She was the daughter of a celebrity star and named after a dead flower and the moon; he, another person labelled after a configuration of fading stars to be placed in the black sky.

He envied how likeable she was and that adapted easily to any environment she was placed in. She envied how confident he seemed and that stand-offish vibe he exuded that repelled nosy people.

Surreptitiously, they learnt about the other. She was interested in the stars, and he was interested in flowers.

[-]


	19. charlie&tonks: romania (goodbye)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I ship this.**

Written for "19. goodbye"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "45. unexpected"

7 March 2014. Pairing: Charlie&Tonks. Word Count: 356

**"I'm happy for you, Charlie, really."**

* * *

**Romania**

[-]

"How does Romania sound?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Like the lettuce? Or the land of the vampires?" She elongated her canines and leered at him. "I vant to suck your blood," she hissed out teasingly.

He laughed and stole a kiss from her, fangs and all. "Shut it, Tink," he said, rolling his eyes.

Nymphadora Tonks returned her teeth back to their normal size and tilted her head to the side as she regarded him curiously. For once, his blithe nickname for her didn't sound right coming from his lips. "You're being serious, aren't you, Charlie?"

"Yeah," he answered honestly. "Dragon Tales offered me a position as a dragon tamer. They want me to start two days after graduation."

Tonks sat up from where she and Charlie had been sprawled underneath a willow tree by the Black Lake. She knew that this was an opportunity of a lifetime for Charlie but she didn't want to think about the future or them going their separate ways just yet. "Why so soon?"

Charlie rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could gauge the expression on her face. She was staring straight ahead, absent-mindedly plucking petals off of a daisy flower. He hated that she wasn't being blunt with him and answering his bloody question.

"They were actually considering a contract where I would drop out of Hogwarts in March and miss graduation. This is their compromise."

"Some compromise," she muttered.

"I'm guessing Romania doesn't sound that great, huh."

Tonks immediately backtracked. "No! Shit – that's not what I said. This is all just so sudden and unexpected. I'm happy for you, Charlie, really. Congratulations! I bet you can't wait to go live your dream life and work with dragons all day every day."

He waited for her to elaborate on her thoughts. He did not doubt the sincerity colouring her words but Charlie knew Tonks had more than 'congratulations' on her mind.

"So . . . ," she said slowly. "Is this goodbye?"

"Only if you want it to be."

She lay back down and snuggled into his waiting arms. "Never," she promised.

[-]


	20. bill&fleur: survival (ache)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "20. ache"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "22. scar"

7 March 2014. Pairing: Bill&Fleur. Word Count: 155

**They do not realise just how much they need each other. **

* * *

**Survival**

[-]

She's the only remedy for his scars. Her beauty heals the ache that plagues his heart and mind every time he catches sight of his ravaged features. Because of her, he tries to a better man, one worthy enough of her love. He wants to be selfless and let her escape the beast that controls him every full moon but he also wants to be selfish and hide her away from the world in their beach cottage.

He's the only remedy for her scars. His positivity reminds her that every shadow has a light source. He makes her stronger and only he can pull her out of the dark pit of depression that threatens to swallow her without warning. She wants to be selfless and tell him to let her go but she also wants to be selfish and demand that he never leaves.

They do not realise just how much they need each other.

[-]


	21. percy&audrey: soul mate (soul)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "21. soul"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "28. Love can wait"

7 March 2014. Pairing: Percy&Audrey. Inspired by: "Haven't Met You Yet" - Michael Bublé. Word Count: 264

**I'll find you, one day. **

* * *

**Soul Mate**

[-]

Maybe I'm dreaming of you. Maybe you're dreaming of me. Maybe we only exist in each other's dreams and every morning when we wake up we forget all about each other.

Perhaps I've seen you before. Maybe I've accidentally brushed against your side in a crowded public area. It could be that you work at the Ministry of Magic like I do and that perhaps we've sat in the same seminars before. Maybe you've died a tragic death before your soul managed to find me. Maybe you're simply a figment of my imagination.

You could be a redhead like me or a blood traitor or a Pureblood or a Muggle. You could have had childhood dreams to become an astronaut or a ballerina or a Mediwitch or a famous Quidditch player. You could be funny and loud or reserved and serious. You might be the independent type. You might be the clingy type.

Love can wait. It's spontaneous yet predictable. I might not know you're my soul mate right off the bat but our love will hit us in the face like a Bludger and we'll just _know_. I'll find you, one day. Or maybe you'll find me first. We'll have a lot of firsts together, and the world will pass us by while silmutaneously standing still as our lives intertwine.

I may be alone and discontent with life right now, but that's only because I haven't actually met you yet. I can wait until the day you waltz - or maybe crash or fall - into my life.

Love can wait until then.

[-]


	22. harry&ginny: once again (starting over)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "22. starting over"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "40. bittersweet"

8 March 2014. Pairing: Harry&Ginny. Word Count: 320

**They had fallen in love with each other, once upon a time.**

* * *

**Once Again  
**

[-]

They had once known each other better than they had known themselves.

Ginny recalled spending countless hours of her youth daydreaming over his pretty eyes or blushing whenever she was in his presence. She had placed him on a pedestal and viewed him as a deity who was made to be worshiped. To her, Harry Potter was infallible and a hero destined to always save the day.

Harry remembered her as Ron's sister who fancied him more than she would dare to admit. Her quiet faith in him had given Harry the self-confidence he needed whenever he felt as if the world were conspiring against him and his survival. He also remembered that as the years went by, she had gathered the courage to step out of her brothers' shadows and become her own person. She had solidified her feisty personality and was infamous around the corridors of Hogwarts to be the type of person to act first and think later.

They had fallen in love with each other, once upon a time. The war had separated them, though, and changed them both until they had forgotten what loving the other felt like.

It was a month or two after the end of the Second Wizarding War when Harry cancelled the hiatus he had placed on their relationship. Their reunion was awkward over teacups of Earl Grey, and conversation that had once easily flowed was now stilted and forced. Bittersweet memories of the past clouded their attempts to reconcile and move forward in life.

Everything after the war - including their relationship - was in the process of reconstruction and rebirth. However, they were determined to do things right this time and not jump headfirst, fearless, into a love that was bigger than they could handle.

It was a gradual process, but Harry and Ginny were starting over and learning how to fall in love with each other once again.

[-]


	23. victoire&teddy: sand castle (drift)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "23. drift"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "18. fireflies"; Monthly Poetry Flood "March 2014: tired"

8 March 2014. Pairing: Victoire&Teddy. Word Count: 286

**Summer is wanting to go back to December.  
**

* * *

**Sand Castle  
**

[-]

Summer is when the fireworks shine brighter than the stars  
and the grass fades like an old photograph of a once-forgotten memory.

It is the world coloured by rose-tinted sunglasses  
and an endless salty day filled with beach glass and seashells.

It is the sun freckling your shoulders and peeling you out of your winter skin.

It's pretending that you're a mermaid and having a summer beach romance with a boy you've only met today.  
It's pretending you're not wishing that he were Teddy instead.

Summer is partying at beach bonfires and getting drunk on moonlight.  
It's the exhilarating rush of smoking a cigarette for the first time  
or trying to fly high to the world only a little white pill can unlock.

It's swan-diving off a cliff and feeling free for the first time.  
It's catching fireflies in glass jars and racing against the tide.

It's tired, gritty eyes of a morning hang-over and tears from the night before.  
It's promising yourself _"Never again"_  
even though you already know you're lying before you say the words.

Summer is making pictures out of the clouds in the fluffy blue sky.  
It's drifting endlessly in the ocean without a tether keeping you stuck on land.

It's calling his mobile late at night when you know he's asleep.  
It's hearing him speak to you even though it's just his voice-mail recording.

Summer is wanting to go back to December  
back to when Teddy loved you and swore that he would until the end of time.

It's when you find out that you weren't the only person in your relationship who lied.

Summer is when you build a sand castle around your heart  
and do not let anybody in.

[-]


	24. fred&hermione: stay (leaving)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I wish this were canon.  
**

Written for "24. leaving"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "12. serenade"

8 March 2014. Pairing: Fred&Hermione. Word Count: 434

**"But . . . you can't just _drop out_ of Hogwarts. That's breaking the rules."**

* * *

**Stay  
**

[-]

They were returning from a Dumbledore's Army meeting when he had suddenly pulled her into a broom closet.

"Fred!" she chastised him. What if someone had seen them? Hermione wasn't ready for their romantic relationship to be made public just yet.

"I'm sorry," he replied unapologetically. "But I have something I need to tell you."

"And you needed to tell me it in a _broom closet_?"

He frowned at her but their broom closet did not have a light so Hermione did not see his displeased expression. "Hermione, I'm trying to have a serious moment with you."

She tried to choke back her instinctive laughter - that was _Fred Weasley_ who had said the s-word - and the notion of her being impudent was completely preposterous. "Do continue," she waved Fred on in between bouts of laughter.

"I'm leaving," Fred said solemnly.

"No, don't! I'll control myself," Hermione promised. She grabbed his arm in case he did decide to leave and not tell her the-thing-of-utmost-importance-and-seriousness.

Fred smiled sadly. "Hermione, that's the news I wanted to tell you. George and I have decided that we're dropping out of Hogwarts. We're tired of the Umbridge toad."

She sobered immediately. "You're leaving?" she repeated. "But . . . you can't just _drop out_ of Hogwarts. That's breaking the rules."

He laughed and pulled her closer to him so that he could wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on the top of her head. "When have I ever cared about the rules?"

She shrugged. "It was worth a try." Hermione listened to the steady pound of his heartbeat and relished the feeling of being enveloped in his comforting warmth. She couldn't believe that he would want to give their relationship up just to escape Umbridge. "Surely you'll stay?" she asked in a small voice.

Fred avoided directly answering her question. "George and I, we've been thinking of opening a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Something like Zonko's but on a grander scale. We won't be as close year-round to the Hogwarts demographic, but we figured Diagon Alley needed something to attract the younger generations. You'll come visit, won't you?"

"Of course," she responded instantaneously, realising that in his response he was also asking if she wanted to try a long-distance relationship with him. "When do you leave?" Hermione asked, half-dreading the answer.

"Tomorrow," he whispered into her hair and serenaded her cheeks and lips with butterfly kisses. "We have one last prank up our sleeves. George and I have decided to go out with a big bang, so to speak."

"You'll be safe?"

"Always."

[-]


	25. ron&ginny: serial dater (last to know)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "25. last to know"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "7. Weasley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "26. common room"

8 March 2014. Pairing: Ron&Ginny. Word Count: 405

**"I just want what's best for you."  
**

* * *

**Serial Dater  
**

[-]

"You're dating someone _again_?" he spluttered out. "But - but - weren't you just going out with what's-his-name?"

She rolled her eyes at her over-protective brother. "Mind your own business, Ron," she said as she skimmed through the assigned homework passage in her Transfiguration textbook.

Ron scowled and his face turned a lovely strawberry shade. "Ginny!" he yelled, making all of the students in the Gryffindor Common Room look at the two squabbling siblings. "You're. Fifteen. Years. Old," he enunciated.

"Thanks for remembering my birthday was this past August," she commented and continued to pay more attention to her Transfiguration than to his ridiculousness.

"When I was fifteen I didn't date every girl who had a pulse!"

She arched her eyebrows and glanced up at her tactless brother. "Are you implying that I'm a whore?" she inquired calmly.

"What? No! Never! But Gin - "

She slammed her textbook shut and cast the _Muffliato_ spell which was one of the many things Harry had taught her recently. "There is no 'but', Ronald Bilius Weasley. And I've found someone who loves me for me, thank you very much! _I_ don't date people who are superficial and clingy and expect me to cater to their every whim and needs!"

"Are you talking about Lavender Brown? Because our relationship is GREAT and I don't appreciate you trying to tear us apart - "

"Really? Then why are you being such a hypocrite about my _private_ relationships?"

"You have a reputation, Ginny! There was Michael Corner and Dean Thomas and - and -"

"Yeah, Ron, _two_ people. I didn't realise that made me a serial dater."

"Well, who's the third, huh? Or have you two already broken up?"

Ginny drew out her wand and pointed it at Ron. "Screw you," she glared at him. "And you wonder why you're always the last one to know about my boyfriends."

"I just want what's best for you," he explained himself in a soft voice, realising that he had unknowingly crossed a line with one of his comments.

"Harry knows what's best for me. _I _know what's best for me. Not you." She sighed and stowed her wand as she regained control of her emotions. "Thank you for your concern but butt out, Ron." Ginny grabbed her belongings and stomped out of the Common Room and up to the Girls' Dormitory in search of Hermione so she could vent about her brother.

[-]


	26. james&lily: midnight mocha (another)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I heart Thor. He's so freakin' adorbs.**

Written for "26. another"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. humour"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "25. five minutes to midnight"

8 March 2014. Pairing: James&Lily. Inspired by: "This drink, I like it! Another!" - Thor. Word Count: 550

**"Is that the Marauders code for 'let's go raid the kitchens'?"**

* * *

**Midnight Mocha**

[-]

They were the last two in the Gryffindor Common Room for the night. Lily was surrounded by a mountain of textbooks, essays, and class notes. James had his head in his Charms textbook as if he could absorb knowledge through the process of osmosis.

"I can't do this anymore!" she declared frustratedly at five minutes to midnight. Her loud exclamation startled James out of his catnap and he woke with bleary eyes, wonky glasses, and untidy hair.

"Do what?" he asked as he stood up from his chair and loped over to the sofa where she was studying. "Merlin, Evans," he swore as he peered at her notes. "It's only N.E.W.T.S. They don't put any complicated algorithms on the written exams. And the practicals are, well, _practical_. You'll pass simply by using common sense."

"How do you know that?" Lily demanded and shoved him away. "You've never taken N.E.W.T.S. before!"

He shrugged. "That's an irrelevant detail." James grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the sofa. "C'mon, Evans, up you go."

"Let go of me!"

As usual, he ignored her. "You need a study break, Evans."

"Is that the Marauders code for 'let's go raid the kitchens'?" she asked tartly.

He feigned shock. "Shh! It's a secret!" James winked.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible," she said in a flat voice.

"Another irrelevant detail about me," he said as they snuck out of the portrait hole and down to the entrance hall. James tickled the pear in the fruit bowl painting with and gestured for Lily to enter the kitchens first. "After you, m'lady." In response, she shoved him through the kitchens' door headfirst.

"Ow," he frowned and rubbed his head.

Lily disregarded his injury and greeted the house elves familiarly. They smiled at the two Gryffindors and asked what they wanted to be served.

"I want something that's Muggle," James stated.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that. Honestly, Potter," Lily replied." To the elves, she said in a nicer voice: "I'd like an iced white chocolate mocha, please, no whipped cream."

James looked at her peculiarly. "Is that a Muggle drink?"

She shrugged. "Is there a wizard or witch named Starbucks?"

"Not that I know of," he replied thoughtfully. Then, James narrowed his eyes. "You were being facetious, weren't you, Evans."

Lily laughed and shook her head. "Me? Never!"

"Miss Lily?" a house elf approached her timidly and proffered her ordered drink. "I hope it is to your liking."

"I'm sure it is," she smiled kindly. "At this point, anything with caffeine is a gift from God." She took a sip from her coffee cup and closed her eyes in bliss as the mocha rejuvenated her. "Ahhh," she sighed happily. "Would you like to try it, Potter?"

He took the cup and slowly swallowed a mouthful of the sugary concoction.

"Is it Muggle enough for you?" Lily asked cheekily.

"This drink - I like it!" In his enthusiasm, James accidentally hit the coffee cup a little too hard against the granite counter as he set it down, and the cup shattered into pieces. "Another!" he declared, anyway.

The house elves and Lily shared an amused look. _No_, their wide eyes said to each other. They would not be giving him more caffeine any time soon.

[-]


	27. andromeda&ted: black sheep (belong)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I swear like a sailor.  
**

Written for "27. belong"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. family"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "3. Knight in Shining Armour"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Andromeda&Ted. Inspired by: "Ho Hey" - The Lumineers. Word Count: 486

**"I belong with you."**

* * *

**Black Sheep  
**

[-]

There's no place like home. Merlin, Andromeda hopes there is no other place like her fucked up home anywhere else on Earth. The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black is haunted with figurative skeletons in the closet, and Andromeda wants nothing to do with her family's superficial values. She has been banished to her attic-bedroom for the night all because Bellatrix had decided to be a little witch at dinner and tattle to their parents about Andromeda's boyfriend. So what if Edward Tonks didn't have 'pure' blood? So fucking what if he is a Muggleborn? He is a better man by far than any of the Pureblooded bigots her parents would try to arrange a marriage with for her.

She needs to escape the society that is slowly suffocating her. Andromeda has always fancied running away from home but this time she means it. Her bag was packed with the essentials months ago - all she needs to do is cast an Undetectable Extension charm on it and update the rucksack's contents. She shoves most of her belongings into her bag - she has no doubt that her mother will come and burn anything of hers that she leaves behind - and sends a Patronus to Ted so he knows to keep his Floo network open tonight.

Half past midnight, Andromeda sneaks down the staircase and makes sure avoid the creaky third step from the bottom. The Blacks have a Floo fireplace in the study that works around-the-clock. Andromeda knows that Bellatrix has used it to avoid curfew and sneak out to be with Rodolphus Lestrange, so she has every confidence that she can do the same and escape without being detected.

She steps in the grate, makes sure that her rucksack is secure, and grabs a fistful of Floo powder. She gathers her Gryffindor courage and says a silent goodbye to the walls that have trapped her for sixteen years. "The Buzzard's Nest," Andromeda says firmly.

The air rushes all around her and discombobulates her sense of balance. When she lands, she would have fallen face-first out of the fireplace if her knight in shining armour hadn't been waiting to catch her.

"You all right?" Ted asks, holding her close to him. He seals up his Floo in case her parents decide to follow their daughter to his house and kidnap her back to their hellhole.

She nods, not trusting her voice. The finality of her actions hit her all at once, and she is so glad that she isn't alone at the moment.

"That's your family you ran away from, Dromeda," Ted gently says. He wants her to realise the gravity of her decision to estrange herself from her blood kin.

She bites her lip and tries not to cry. There's no going back now. Andromeda wraps herself in the shelter of his strong, steady arms and tells him: "I belong with you."

[-]


	28. lily&severus: dream team (together)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "28. together"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. friendship"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "19. perfection"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Lily&Severus. Word Count: 159

**Together, they're unlimited.  
**

* * *

**Dream Team  
**

[-]

They are two wide-eyed Fifth Years who believe in the abstract: friendship, faith, love. Their world is confined to a castle filled with magic and academics. They met many summers ago, and somehow, even back then, they knew that they were destined for a friendship that was bigger and stronger than they could ever imagine.

"You two are absolute perfection together," Professor Slughorn compliments them as he inspects their concoction. He had assigned a partner potion project for that day's lesson, and, of course, they had chosen to work with each other. They worked in effortless tandem and were the first ones to produce the desired potion. "My efficacious Dream Team."

Lily and Severus glow with pride at his words. They share that special secret smile that only the best of friends can understand. And for a moment, the stars align and everything is perfect and right. Together, they're unlimited. Nothing in the world can ever bring them down.

[-]


	29. cho&cedric: caged (remember)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "29. remember"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. hurt/comfort"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Cho&Cedric. Word Count: 312

**She doesn't know who he is or why she keeps on drawing this boy she thinks she's never met before.**

* * *

**Caged  
**

[-]

In the wake of his death, Cho finds that she cannot sleep. Insomnia preys on her grieving mind and in an attempt to find solace, her fingers hastily scrabble on canvas until they bleed. But even then, she is restless.

She is strong enough to resist etching scarlet ink upon the blank parchment of her skin but she entertains the idea every now and then. It's the only way she can keep herself sane. Cho laughs bitterly to herself at the paradox she presents - suicidal thoughts keep her sane - but that's who she is, now. She's a soul pretending she is all right without her other half.

It's the biggest lie she's ever made herself believe.

Drawing used to help. It used to make her remember the precise shade of green his eyes were or the days they used to spend sitting by the Black Lake. She would sketch his face until it was tattooed in her memory. She would envision his last moments and the doomed labyrinth he had been forced into. She would draw the graveyard over and over until it was more familiar to her than reality was.

But then her mind began to imprison her. It became a cage that trapped and separated her from the world where Cedric did exist. Her brain began to alter her memories of him until she could barely even remember his name. To protect her from the pain and trauma, her mind locks away her memories of him and suddenly it's as if Cedric were only a good dream she now cannot recall upon waking.

And so she draws instead of sleeping. She draws the face of a familiar stranger in honeyed hues and dark shadows of a badger but she doesn't know who he is or why she keeps on drawing this boy she thinks she's never met before.

[-]


	30. rose&ron: dragons (way back when)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "30. way back when"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. fantasy"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "31. what if"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Ron&Rose. Word Count: 470

**_"Oh, they are real all right. They are realer than your imagination, Rosie."_**

* * *

**Dragons  
**

[-]

_"Way back when hippogriffs roamed freely, there was a kingdom of dragons located in the British Isles_."

She had rented a boat and rowed for weeks upon weeks as she searched for the kingdom of dragons her father had told her about every night before bed. Her mum said Daddy only spoke of a legend that wasn't true, but Rose knew better. The lost kingdom existed despite what her mum may claim, and Rose was determined to find it.

_"These dragons were tall, taller than the tallest thing you can think of. They had hearts who beat as one and eyes that glowed brighter than the constellations. Their scales glittered like polished gemstones. These were dragons of the rarest breed, the Snogard Spiketails, and it was rumoured that any human who located them would find eternal happiness.  
_

She could use some happiness in her life at the moment. It had been years since Rose Weasley had bothered to listen to the legend her father recited - she was too old for such silly bedtime stories - but now it was too late to ever hear his voice again. Ron had passed some seven winters ago; however, the pain of losing her father was still fresh in her heart and mind. Without her father anchoring her, Rose felt lost and adrift in a world whose tide washed away memories of the past before she was ready to let go.

_"The Snogards were the peaceful sort and a specie that was older than the stars. Their fire burned hotter than the sun and galaxies bloomed in their wise, omniscient eyes. They were said to have been able to share their thoughts only to those with the purest of hearts, and that those who were gifted with the wisdom of the Snogards were granted the ability to coexist in harmony with the natural world."  
_

It had taken countless hours of researching through dusty unused books and sifting through folklore and legends, but Rose managed to pinpoint enough information to narrow down the possible locations of the mythical dragons. She rowed herself ashore of the island that never existed on any map, and she revelled in the ancient and powerful magic that shrouded the place from the blind world. It was her strong and steady faith in the Snogards that had allowed Rose to set foot upon the island's rocky shores; otherwise, she would have been as ignorant and sightless as the unbelievers.

_"What if they're real, Daddy?"_

_"Oh, they are real all right. They are realer than your imagination, Rosie."_

Rose abandoned the boat that had carried her from reality to this place mentioned only in myths and began her search for the dragons that would bring her eternal happiness and peace. And maybe, just maybe, she would find herself along the way.

[-]


	31. ginny&riddlejr: neverland (never)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Slight implication of sexual activities. Blink and you'll miss it.  
**

Written for "31. never"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "8. horror"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "8. quote"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Ginny&TomRiddleJr. Inspired by: "Without love, we are birds with broken wings." - Morrie Schwartz. Word Count: 286

**And you may love him but he'll never love you. **

* * *

**Neverland  
**

[-]

It's a bit like falling, you think, the way he bleeds ink stains all over your robes. He's a madman and rips through your clothes as if they were flimsy sheets of tissue. The satisfying tear and the crinkling of your heartbeat is what he lives for. The more you die, the more he becomes alive. And you may love him but he'll never love you.

But when he stops destroying, you think there is something oh-so wrong. You sit up and ignore the watercolour-bruises he has painted onto your skin. You ignore the burning prints of his fingers he has branded in a noose around your throat. You ignore it all and ask him what's the matter.

He laughs, a harsh bitter sound that scrapes against your mind. _Nothing_, he sneers. _Everything_, he contradicts himself.

You're just a little wide-eyed girl and you don't know anything about the horrors of the world just yet. But he's an excellent teacher and you make sure to pay attention to the life lessons he gives.

_I want to help you,_ you say. _Let me_. And suddenly you find yourself covered in blood-red rooster feathers that have been fashioned into a beautiful ball gown. You feel like a princess and you're so so sure that he loves you like you love him.

_You've done enough_, he says. It echoes hollowly like a goodbye does and you want to tell him _no, don't send me away. _But the rooster feathers are building phoenix wings for you and then you're flying high-high-so-high. It's in the opposite direction of where you want to be, though, so you let go.

It's a bit like falling, you think, and you never want to land.

[-]


	32. ariana&albus: deathstick (control)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I hope I wrote Ariana all right *fingers crossed*  
**

Written for "32. control"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"

9 March 2014. Pairing: Ariana&Dumbledore. Inspired by: "Though I prefer a happy end, no man can cheat the grave." - Heather Dale, _Hero_. Word Count: 491

**He says something like _hello_ so I say hello back but then he's all disgusted with me and good job, Ariana, you messed up again.**

* * *

**Deathstick**

[-]

My brother is afraid of death. He tries to deny the fact that he is mortal just like the rest of us. Him and that boy with the blackened soul plot and theorise ways to cheat the grave but they never come up with a plausible solution. I know that they never will - people are born only to die - but they never pay attention to me or what I have to say.

Aberforth tries to understand but it's like he and I do not speak the same language. I wonder what is wrong with me. When I was younger, Mummy used to brush my hair with a hundred strokes until it shone like a newly minted Galleon; now, she doesn't even bother touching me. I wonder what I did to make her not love me anymore. Aberforth lets me help him with raising the goats but there are some times when I disappoint him because he uses that slow voice that enunciates the world a little too clearly and then I see. I see. And I wish I were I were sightless again because I do not want to see the disappointment and pity marring their faces.

That foreign boy who plants seeds of destruction in my brother's mind is lethal poison. I don't like him one bit but Alby tells me to be nice and so I am quiet whenever Gellert is around. But I don't like him or what he is doing to my brother. I don't like Gellert at all.

One day he comes by the house all excited and waving his wand carelessly. He says something like _hello_ so I say hello back but then he's all disgusted with me and good job, Ariana, you messed up again. Gellert tells Alby about the Hallows - that's what he said, not 'hello' - and how the possessor of all three can become the Master of Death. Alby disregards him at first with a teasing laugh when he finds out that the Hallows are mentioned in a children's book. But Gellert's serious and is still waving his wand around and I don't recognise it as his.

_Is that new?_ I ask but he doesn't answer.

_Is that new?_ Alby asks and Gellert answers.

_It's the Elder Wand_, Gellert boasts proudly. _The Deathstick. Only two more Hallows left to find; whaddya say, Al? You in for the adventure of an endless lifetime?_

My brother almost agrees but I can't let him do that to himself. I lose control of my body but I know that I have to take that wand away from Gellert. He doesn't understand or deserve the power contained in the wood. But he's mad, so mad, and he's yelling at Alby and sparks are flying - why does my heart _hurthurthurt_? - but I manage to snatch away the wand from him.

And for the first time, I feel like I've done something right.

[-]


	33. godric&helena: gone (all or nothing)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "33. I want it all or nothing"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "9. ghosts"; 335 pairings "Godric&Helena"

10 March 2014. Pairing: Godric&Helena. Inspired by: "You won't be waiting. And I'll ghost up of what we had."- The Darling Buds, _Better Man_. Word Count: 271

**She promised she would try harder and love him better. **

* * *

**Gone**

[-]

He expected too much of her. She tried to tell him that there was only so much love her heart was capable of, yet he still demanded more.

"I want it all or nothing," he had told her. "Your entire heart, Lena. Is that too much to ask for?"

_Yes_, she wanted to tell him. But instead, she promised she would try harder and love him better.

It would pacify him for a few months but inevitably Godric would be disappointed by her again and they would suffer through the same cyclical arguments once more.

Eventually, she had grown sick and tired of not being good enough and disappointing the people in her life who loved her more than she could love them. She abandoned her mother and the man who loved her conditionally. Helena had fled to Romania to find solace and isolation, but somehow along the way she had lost pieces of herself.

When Helena died after too much of her had been broken, she'd chosen to remain as a spirit instead of rebirth, for she had wanted to find and apologise to both her mother and Godric. But upon returning to Hogwarts, Helena discovered too many years had passed in her absence and that both were gone.

Unfortunately, by choosing to be a ghost, Helena was stuck on Earth for at least a century before the guardians of the afterlife would let her re-decide.

"You won't be waiting for long," she vowed to the memory of her mother and her lover. "And I'll love you with everything I have this time. I won't make the same mistake twice."

[-]


	34. sirius&alice:canis major(leave me alone)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "34. leave me alone"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "6. Astronomy tower"

10 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Alice. Inspired by: "All I ever wanted was the world. I can't help that I need it all."- Marina and the Diamonds, _Primadonna_. Word Count: 166

**There's a boy who screams into the darkness simply because he can. **

* * *

**Canis Major**

[-]

There's a boy who locks himself in a tower and dreams of jumping off the ledge so that he may inhale the stars.

There's a boy who screams into the darkness simply because he can. He runs wild until he falls asleep only for the nightmares to take their slow, sweet time catching up with him.

There's a boy who was born from the sky and now wants the world. It's not his fault - he has been conditioned to think he can always get what he wants. But what if the world doesn't want him?

(I'm not the whole world but I do want him.)

There's a boy who disappears without warning and breaks his promises before he has even made them. There's a boy who wants to be left alone, and he hides in the Astronomy Tower so that he may be closer to the constellations from which he was derived from.

I love this boy but he doesn't even know that I exist.

[-]


	35. james&lily: glory days (standing)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Hell yeah, it's another AU! For this one, let's pretend Hogwarts does not exist.**

Written for "35. standing"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "16. blush"; MEW tumblr challenge #3 "No war. Lily Evans is a hired photographer to take pictures of Quidditch player James Potter."

10 March 2014. Pairing: James&Lily. Inspired by: "Your willingness to always love me drove me away."- Hungry Lucy, _Sunday Smiled_; "The Golden Age" - Drew Tabor. Word Count: 550

**Tonight was a mistake.**

* * *

**Glory Days**

[-]

You're standing on a balcony looking at the skyline of a city that's too far away. It's half past ten and you're an outsider in your sparkly dress and heels. You don't belong here, and everyone knows it. There's a flute of champagne bubbling in your left hand but it's merely a prop to make you feel like the adult you're dressing up as.

_Wizard and Broomstick_, the Quidditch magazine you work for as a photojournalist, has asked you to attend the end-of-the-season gala they are hosting. They rented the Goring Hotel in inner-city London and have gone all-out with the decorations and guest list. You're so starstruck by all of the professional Quidditch players milling about in their black-tie attire and you feel inferior to the flawless celebrities.

Your trusty black Pentax Spotmatic camera is looped around your neck. It's not pearls or diamonds, but the Muggle photographing device has been your golden ticket through life and you wouldn't give it up for anything. The air inside the ballroom was stuffy with over-inflated egos, and you had to escape. It is not as if anyone noticed your absence, anyway. To clear your mind, you lift your camera up and snap a few shots of the stars that are swaying above in the night sky. Your dark side is falling in love with nature's effortless beauty, and you don't feel like returning back to the party scene any time soon.

"Hello, there."

It's his voice. James Potter. He is Puddlemere United's newest and most valued lead Chaser. He is also the person W&B wanted you to interview specifically tonight and the reason why you almost declined this assignment.

"Is everything all right?" he asks in that memory-stained voice.

His presence is taking a toll on your heart and you want to take a freeze frame of this moment before it all unavoidably falls apart. You blush and stammer out a lame "I'm fine, thank you" before ducking away from him and blending back into the crowd of famous strangers. Tonight was a mistake and you chastise yourself for not being emotionally strong enough to forget the past.

You drift over to the table of refreshments, and while looking through pastries and sweets, you recall the glory days of when you could look Potter in the eyes without having an emotional meltdown. That was back when you were young and foolishly in love. You believed that love conquered all and that the two of you could survive anything the world threw at you. But then he became a celebrity practically overnight, and suddenly time and distance were erasing everything you loved about him and your relationship.

He didn't want it to end. He was willing to always love you no matter what but you weren't ready for that kind of devotion. Once, you had thought he'd be yours to keep forever but he let you run away.

Now you're standing alone in the corner, breaking your own heart once again. You raise your camera to shield your mascara-streaked eyes from the truth but he's hard to ignore even through the impartial lens of the camera. Through the tears, you make yourself finally accept that it's your own damn fault for letting go of the best thing that has ever happened to you.

[-]


	36. narcissa&lucius: exposed (time)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Infidelity. Don't do it.  
**

Written for "36. time"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"

11 March 2014. Pairing: Narcissa&Lucius. Inspired by: "Why are some girls so naive? He didn't unbutton your blouse to see a better view of your heart."- Meg and Dia, _Roses_. Word Count: 500

**But Purebloods rarely ever receive a happily ever after, and it seems that Narcissa will not be one of those lucky ones.**

* * *

**Exposed  
**

[-]

Sometimes, Narcissa wonders why she ever thought it would be a good idea to marry into the Malfoy family.

Her parents conduct and arrange the whole affair before Narcissa even has a chance to compose herself. The Malfoys expect a pretty, prim and proper young lady - only the best for their prodigal son - and so Narcissa hastily blooms before she is ready to. At nineteen, she isn't ready to be transplanted off the Black family tree and grafted onto the Malfoy's. She is so immature and green but apparently that's what the Malfoy's want for the next Lady of Malfoy Manor.

In the beginning, Lucius makes sure to appear sympathetic and caring. He promises he will do everything he possibly can to make the transition easier on her. And, oh, isn't he _such_ a gentleman? His well-bred manners and aristocrat upbringing makes him a little old-fashioned at times, but Narcissa has always dreamt of marrying a Mr Darcy. The romantic inside of her swoons uncontrollably whenever Lucius acts the part of a gallant knight.

But Purebloods rarely ever receive a happily ever after, and it seems that Narcissa will not be one of those lucky ones.

As the seasons bleed into one another and time fades away, so does the passion in their relationship. Lucius began to stay in his study longer - door locked, curtains drawn, _no you may not enter, Narcissa _- and he stops showing affection towards her. Narcissa thinks it is just a phase but when this new personality of his continues on for years, she realises that maybe this was the beast he had been all along and the beauty he had shown her oh-so-long-ago was simply a farce to ensnare her into marriage.

She dares to enter his study one night when he does not come to bed hours after midnight has passed. The giggles and breathy satisfied moaning grunts of a woman who isn't his wife permeates the air, and Narcissa stands frozen in the shadows of the doorway. She wants to scream or deny or physically hurt Lucius or that other woman but she has to tiptoe away and pretend like his infidelity does not bother her. She's a Pureblood woman, and really, what did she expect? She knew her father indulged in such illicit activities, but she had turned a blind eye to his faults and promised herself she would be an excellent wife to Lucius so that he would never be unfaithful to her.

Lucius slips into bed as the dawn peeks through the window and exposes the dirty laundry littering their bedroom floor. His breath stinks of liquor and he reeks of sex and some other woman's love. But despite his previous activities, he is still insatiable and ravenously pushes away his nightgown away from Narcissa's collarbone. He's desperate with desire as he peppers her heart with kisses coloured by another girl's lipstick.

Sometimes, Narcissa wonders if Lucius ever did truly love her, once upon a time.

[-]


	37. bellatrix&vold: toujours pur (passing)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: This quote could've led to a really great (cous)incest fic, but alas, that is not my cup of tea.  
**

Written for "37. passing"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"

11 March 2014. Pairing: Bellatrix&Voldemort. Inspired by: "Who can I blame for it? I say it runs in the family."- Amanda Palmer, _Runs in the Family_. Word Count: 494

******"You will never amount to anything else."**

* * *

**Toujours Pur  
**

[-]

"I would do anything for you," she whispers reverently.

"Is that so?" he responds in that high-pitched voice equivalent to the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

Bellatrix smiles, baring her teeth. "Of course I would. Do you doubt my words?" It's a shame her Lord does not know that she _likes_ the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

He walks in a careful circle around her, assessing her potential. "Are you content with being second best?"

She isn't but she will not admit that. She _has _to prove that she is worthy enough for him. "Anything to please you, My Lord."

He is dissatisfied with her response - did she say something wrong? - and carelessly aims a Cruciatus Curse at Bellatrix. "Why don't you tell me the truth this time?" he suggests.

Oh. But . . . she _can't_. Bellatrix has never been good at telling the truth; every time she tries, it somehow ends up being twisted into a very convincing lie. She opens her mouth but no words spill out of her.

"Has the Cruciatus Curse rendered you mute?" he jibes at her as he sends another wave of crippling pain at her body. "Speak!"

It is with great difficulty that she manages to whisper out, "No, My Lord. I cannot bear to be second best."

Lord Voldemort nods and ends the torture, much to Bellatrix's dismay. She actually preferred the predictable numbing pain over the excruciating spontaneity of reality. "But that's what you are, Bellatrix Black." She jolts at the use of her maiden name - it's been so long since anyone has spoken of her original heritage in passing. He makes another circle around her and stops in front of her face. "You're a Black and they are always the beta. You will never amount to anything else."

He snatches her left arm, and Bellatrix trembles in anticipation at his action. This is it. He is finally going to mark her. He tattoos his serpentine brand into her flesh, and she closes her eyes as she relishes the burning sensation.

"_Toujours pur_, indeed," he sneers softly, a slight note of pity and scorn marring his voice but she pretends to not notice. He drops her arm disgustedly as if it is the limb of a filthy Mudblood's now that she has been marked.

Bellatrix doesn't mind being insulted. All of her insecurities and vulnerabilities have melted away now that she has been promoted to Death Eater status. "Thank you, My Lord," she says.

From beneath his hood, the Dark Lord's scarlet eyes flash. Bellatrix is a terrible fool, ambitious but blinded with the greed for power. She doesn't understand a thing about blood purity besides the mindless propaganda her parents have fed her. She's eager to learn, though, and that is a trait he values highly.

"_Crucio_," he hisses out to re-establish the hierarchy between them. He knows that she knows it's his way of saying _You're welcome_.

[-]


	38. draco&hermione: asphyxiate (slowly)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "38. slowly"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "42. smile"

11 March 2014. Pairing: Draco&Hermione. Inspired by: "There will come a time when I am stronger. Your words won't hurt any longer."- Emilie Autumn, _Castle Down_. Word Count: 129

**You can't breathe whenever you are around him.**

* * *

**Asphyxiate**

[-]

You can't breathe whenever you are around him.

He tosses the word _Mudblood _at you with the intent of piercing your skin like a knife would, and he makes you bleed so, so much. Why can't he see that soon you won't have any more of that dirty blood leaking from your veins if he keeps this up? You're slowly being choked of life, and it's all because of him. You want to be stronger and build yourself a shield made of titanium but he's the acid that is corroding your defence and burning you alive.

He smiles that rattlesnake smile and bares his poisoned fangs. He's a predator on the hunt and you realise a little too late that you'll never make it out of this castle alive.

[-]


	39. lily&severus: choices (worse)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "39. worse"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "47. pretty eyes"

11 March 2014. Pairing: Lily&Severus. Inspired by: "I can't shake the fear you were never mine, I'll never change you."- Picture Me Broken, _Nerds and Cigarettes; _"You're worth the whole damn bunch put together." - The Great Gatsby. Word Count: 226

**He wanted to keep her safe and sound, but she had the heart of a lion and was braver than him by far.**

* * *

**Choices  
**

[-]

The first thing Severus Snape had noticed about her was that she had pretty eyes. They were green but kaleidoscopically so, for they seemed to fluctuate between a hue more forbidden than the forest or as lively as Spring. It all depended on the light of her surrounding environment, and he was lucky to be graced with her presence in places that were shielded from the shadows.

He wanted to keep her safe and sound, but she had the heart of a lion and was braver than him by far. _I'm going to go fight in the war. There's nothing you can say that will stop me,_ she had told him.

_Not even_ _'I love you'?_ he blurted out.

Lily shook her head sadly. _But you don't, Sev._

_I do,_ he had interjected but she wasn't listening to him anymore. _It's madness, Lily_, he persisted._  
_

_What's worse?_ she shot back. _Me dying or hundreds of others?_

_You're worth the whole damn bunch put together._

_I've made my choice_, she said firmly. _And it's time for you to do so, too. There's a war out there, Sev. There's no such thing as being 'neutral'. _Lily got up and left the shade of their willow tree, leaving him all alone.

_But I choose you_, he said to a girl he'd never get the chance to say goodbye to.

[-]


	40. arthur&molly: the burrow (play along)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Let's see how nauseatingly fluffy I can make this drabble.  
**

Written for "40. play along"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "9. quote"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "49. childhood sweethearts"

11 March 2014. Pairing: Molly&Arthur. Inspired by: "I will find her somewhere safe. A house, a home, a resting place."- The Darling Buds, _Cities Alive_. Word Count: 483

**"I like your lip balm; it's yummy."**

* * *

**The Burrow  
**

[-]

Her name was Molly and his was Arthur, and they were the beginning of a new generation. It was the fabulous Fifties, and life was one big party to the seven and nine-year-old.

"What are you doing, Molly?" he asked when he went over to Molly's home over summer holidays and found his best friend dressed up in her mother's too-big heels and apron.

She smiled brightly and said, "I'm playing House. Would you like to play along with me?"

"What's House?"

Molly gave him The Molly Look and Arthur regretted asking his question. "It's where I pretend I'm a mother and that I have a house. But all mummies need a husband, so you can be mine."

"All right," he shrugged since he couldn't find a reason to argue with her logic. "As long as I still get to play with my cars and escapators."

"Sure," Molly agreed. Her face became thoughtful and she said, "Let's pretend you just came home from a long day of work. My daddy Floos home and then kisses Mummy on the cheek after saying 'honey, I'm home', so you should do that too."

"You want me to kiss you?"

"Right after you Floo and tell me 'honey, I'm home'."

"My parents have a name for our home. What should we call ours?" Arthur was stalling; he didn't mind that he had to kiss Molly but her assertiveness made him nervous.

Molly pouted. She had really wanted Arthur to kiss her already. "House of Gryffindor?" she suggested.

"Too . . . generic," Arthur said. "How about The Burrow?"

"Sounds good," Molly replied. "Now Floo home to The Burrow already and get on with acting your part."

He lumbered over to her fireplace, clambered out of it, said "Honey, I'm home!" and was in the process of pecking on her cheek when Molly's mother stepped into the den.

"Oh, my!" Mrs Prewett squealed happily at the sight of her daughter and (hopefully) future son-in-law acting as if they were married to each other.

Mrs Prewett's voice startled Molly, and the seven-year-old turned her face to see her mother. However, this caused Arthur to miss her cheek and suddenly their lips were pressed together. They stared at each other wide-eyed and blushed redder than their hair colours as they sprang apart.

"Mummy!" Molly yelled at her mother for ruining everything.

"Shh, Molly, everything's all right," Arthur soothed her. He tasted his lips thoughtfully. "I like your lip balm; it's yummy." He held her by the shoulders - she was so much taller than him since she was wearing her mother's heels - and asked her in all seriousness: "Was I being a good husband?"

Molly nodded solemnly, momentarily forgetting that she was supposed to be mad at her mother. "The best."

Neither of them realised the flash of Mrs Prewett's camera as she photographically captured their childhood love forever.

[-]


	41. draco&luna: flight (gift)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "41. gift"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Forbidden Forest"

12 March 2014. Pairing: Draco&Luna. Word Count: 495

**"Can you see the thestrals?"**

* * *

**Flight**

[-]

"Do you choose to go barefoot or do you just have a tendency to lose your shoes?"

"Shh," she tells him and slowly turns to look at him over her right shoulder. "They'll never forgive you if you disturb them."

He looks around in confusion but all he can see through the gloom are the spindly trees of the Forbidden Forest. Merlin, she really is as Loony as her nickname.

"Can you see the thestrals?" Loony asks curiously.

He wonders if those are another one of her made-up creatures. "They don't exist, Lovegood," he informs her.

Her eyes shine brightly with barely suppressed secrets, and she gestures for him to come stand beside her. Once Draco has done so, she slowly takes his hand in hers and places their joined hands until they hover in mid-air. Her hand is rather slender and delicate with those five lily-white fingers intertwined ever-so casually with his.

"Don't be afraid," she whispers serenely. "They don't bite."

He doesn't know what 'they' she is talking about - there aren't any thestral creatures nearby - but then there's a slight nudge on his palm and _oh_. These invisible thestral things are actually real creatures and not a figment of Loony's imagination.

"Why can't I see them?" he asks as the thestral keeps bumping his hand. He realises a beat later that it probably wants him to pet it. He's wary of touching something he cannot see - what if it attempted to bite his arm off like that piece-of-shit-o-griff had done? - but he caresses the chilly scales of the invisible creature anyway.

"It's an unfortunate gift to be able to see them. But they're beautiful animals. I suppose you've never seen death before," she responds. She lets go of his hand and strokes the thestral. A strange rattling purr occurs from the thestral, and Draco almost jerks back away from their ghostly hollow sound.

"You have?"

She nods and peeks at him through her faerie-blonde lashes. "My mum."

"Oh." He feels like he should say something else - maybe an _I'm sorry_? - but the good thing about Loony is that she never expects anything from him that he cannot give.

She looks up at the sky. "It's a full moon tonight." Off in the distance, they hear the hair-prickling howl of a nearby werewolf. The air seems to drop ten degrees, and the night becomes shaded with Dementors.

"We should probably head back in to the castle," he says nervously. He has never like the Forbidden Forest ever since he was assigned detention here during his First Year, and the added threat of the soul-sucking Dementors unnerves him even more.

"All right," she agrees in her perpetually wispy voice. Loony smiles softly and wiggles her bare toes in the soft, damp earth. "You can give me back me trainers now, Draco. I'm sorry that you felt like the only way you could talk to me was by stealing my belongings."

[-]


	42. dobby&pince: shh (foolish)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "42. foolish"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Hogwarts Library"; 335 Pairings Challenge "Dobby&IrmaPince"

12 March 2014. Pairing: Dobby&Pince. Word Count: 342

**"But please be quieter - this is a library, for Merlin's sake."**

* * *

**Shh  
**

[-]

- _crrrack! _-

Irma Pince was startled out of her book cataloging by the loud, unexpected noise. It was after hours; surely no student was still awake or foolish enough to be vandalising her library at this time of night! She stomped over to where the source of the intrusive noise had been. As she rounded the bookcase near the entrance to the Restricted Section, a slight twitch of movement from the shadows drew her attention.

"I can see you," she informed the trespasser in a frosty tone. "Come out before I alert your Head of House."

A little house elf slunk out from behind the bookcase sheepishly. "Dobby didn't mean any harm, Madam Pince," he said, eyes lowered in guilt. "Dobby was just coming to bring the kind librarian a plate of food from the Kitchens. He had noticed you weren't in attendance at the dinner tonight, Madam Pince, and wanted to make sure you had a proper meal before bed."

Her stern heart softened at the house elf's concern. "Thank you, Dobby, I appreciate that. But please be quieter - this is a library, for Merlin's sake." She looked at him curiously. "Why were you sneaking around, though?"

He shook his head earnestly. "Twasn't me! Harry Potter mustn't be allowed to return to school! Grave danger!" Dobby then proceeded to bash his head with a random textbook.

"Dobby!" she said sharply. "Dobby, stop this foolish nonsense!" She grabbed the textbook away from him. She couldn't bear to see such harm occur to either her books or the house elf. "Now, dear, who is your master? Won't they be missing your presence?"

The elf shook his head. "No, not him." His eyes grew infinitesimally larger and he darted a quick look back into the Restricted Section. "Dobby must leave the kind librarian to eat in peace," he said cryptically. "Dobby left a plate of food on your main desk. Dobby hopes you enjoys very much, Madam Pince." With a snap of his fingers and another ridiculously loud _crrack_, he Apparated away.

[-]


	43. harry&hermione: red dawn (survive)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: So . . . I didn't know how to label the pairing for this one. It's either Hermione&Ron or Hermione&Harry. Your pick.  
**

Written for "43. survive"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Forest of Dean"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "29. dawn"

12 March 2014. Pairing: Harry&Hermione. Word Count: 382

**I need you. **

* * *

**Red Dawn**

[-]

"We're going to be all right," a boy who isn't you reassures me. He smiles encouragingly but it doesn't quite reach those lily-green eyes of his. I don't dare to believe him - my heart can't handle any more broken promises - but I nod anyway. "We'll be able to survive through this, you and me, together."

He's saying all of the right words but it's the wrong person speaking, and I just want you to come back already. I shrug off Harry's consoling arms that are wrapped around me and go to reinforce the spells protecting the tent. You don't think your important to either of us but we need you, Ron. Without you, everything is uncomfortably intense and there's too many words we cannot say. I need you and your laid-back personality and your habit of speaking before you think. I need your freckles and your ginger-and-sunshine and your strong oak heart.

I need you.

You left me shattered, your words twisted by the locket's hissing voice. Harry found me in pieces and he's trying so hard to put me back together again but he'll never be able to. Only you can, Ron. It's been you all along.

Mindlessly, I perform incantation after incantation to strengthen the shields surrounding and camouflaging the tent. Harry and I are still hiding in the Forest of Dean. I'm reluctant about switching locations. It would be ideal for keeping Snatchers away from our tracks but a part of me is still hoping that you'll return back to Harry and me.

"Hermione," Harry says gently when he comes out of the tent and sees me standing motionless. I'm staring at the horizon but all I notice is that the light of dawn is the same shade of scarlet as your hair.

"He'll come back," Harry tells me. He holds me and I bury my face in his chest as the tears fall uncontrollably. "Soon, Ron will come to his senses."

He tries to take my pain away, and he just might make me smile, but the whole time I am wishing he was you instead.

Harry and I watch the new day slowly rise to erase the loneliness of the night. I hope wherever you are, you're watching the dawn and thinking of me, too.

[-]


	44. fleur&neville: like tides (running back)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Ignore the age gap, if you will. Looks like this one is a muggle!AU as well.**

Written for "44. running back"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Shell Cottage"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "50. moonlit kisses"; 335 Pairings Challenge "Fleur&Neville"

13 March 2014. Pairing: Fleur&Neville. Word Count: 482

**It's beautiful, the magic of the moonlight dancing around the two, and for a minute they do not want the moment to end.**

* * *

**Like Tides**

[-]

Fleur was a flower who only bloomed in the summer. Life began for her during the summer months, and she lived to breathe in the sun and salt. She liked to pretend that she was a mermaid from some undiscovered oceanic kingdom and that she would fall in love with one of the mortal surfer boys who washed up on her sandy shores.

He caught her eye one night while they were at a local undergrad's bonfire party. It was obvious that he wasn't from around here because his clothes were a little too tourist-y and not-yet-sun-faded and Fleur had seen that faux shark-tooth-and-puka-shell necklace hanging in the window of one of the oceanside boutiques along the boardwalk. Nevertheless, he was a stranger and Fleur like the mystery that surrounded foreigners.

"Bonsoir," she smiled demurely as she sidled up next to him. He was sitting on a piece of driftwood by the bonfire, and his brown eyes turned gold in the firelight. "I don't think we've met before."

"I don't think we have, either," he said candidly in a well-cultured English accent and took a nonchalant sip from the red Solo cup in his hand.

Undeterred by his lack of introduction, she continued to talk to him. "I'm Fleur. What brought you here to Knotgrass Village?"

He smiles crookedly, all boy-ish innocence and sincerity for a moment. "The floriculture. I like flowers," he tells her, and it's the most genuine pick-up line that Fleur has ever heard in her life. She thinks for a moment that he may actually be telling truth. But boys have never done that before, so she quickly dismisses the silly notion. "I'm majoring in botany at the moment, and loving every minute of it."

The romantic in her swoons at the passion colouring his voice. Flowers may not be her number interest, but he makes the subject sound so interesting and quixotic. He tells her about the etymology and the different meanings of arranged cut flowers. She learns his name is Neville, and he's so very smart with his talk of biology and horticulture. He tosses around Latin names with ease, and she loves the sound of the Romance language.

"What's your favourite flower?" she asked flirtatiously.

"_Ipomoea alba_," Neville said, looking up at the starlit sky. "The moonflower." He turned back to face her, his mouth slightly parted as if he were going to ask her a question, but he's so close and Fleur impulsively leaned in to kiss him.

It's beautiful, the magic of the moonlight dancing around the two, and for a minute they do not want the moment to end. And when autumn rolls in like the tide, it washes away everything about their summer romance. Fleur's running back as fast as she can to save their relationship from drifting out to sea, but they were a doomed summer fling from the beginning.

[-]


	45. george&angelina: rainstorm (rain)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Just another pairing Colleen has influenced me to write. The others were the Fremione and Draco&Luna. You can prolly expect to see a Seamus&Lavender in the near future, too. (I heart you, love.)  
**

Written for "45. rain"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Diagon Alley"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "17. evanescent"

13 March 2014. Pairing: George&Angelina. Word Count: 404

**"It's like the sky is crying."**

* * *

**Rainstorm  
**

[-]

He sees her standing outside his shop window. Her back is facing him but her long chocolate brown locks are recognisable even after all these years since Hogwarts. It's raining outside - after the war ended, all the weather ever seems to do is rain, rain, rain - but she's not wearing a coat or holding an umbrella. There's a light tremor that shakes her body every now and then, and her breath puffs out in foggy clouds.

"Go help her, dear," Verity tells him as the two watch her suffer in the rain. "I can handle shop business for a while."

George looks at his assistant doubtfully. "What if Angelina doesn't want to be bothered?"

Verity frowns at him. "Dear, a lonely girl like that doesn't _want_ to be alone. She won't mind your presence. Trust me."

"I'm blaming you if it all goes to rubbish," George warns Verity as he removes his shopkeeper apron and puts on his rain slicker and wellies. He grabs an umbrella for good measure and ducks out of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes to go talk to Angelina Johnson.

"Are you all right?" he asks her. He opens up his umbrella and hovers it over the two of them.

She looks up, mildly surprised by the awning over her head. "Just . . . thinking," she replies absent-mindedly. Her lips are chattering, though, and she's drenched with rainwater.

"Thinking about catching pneumonia?" he says back rhetorically. "Come on, Angie, why don't we get you inside where it's dry and warm?"

She doesn't respond and continues to stare at the falling water droplets. "It's like the sky is crying," she says vaguely. Angelina turns to George and wonders aloud: "Why doesn't it end, Fred? Why does it never end?"

It's a punch in the gut to be called his brother's name, but George ignores the lump in his throat so he can focus on assisting Angelina. She's obviously not in a right state of mind, and George just wants to make sure she is safe. It seems as if she's been so traumatised by the war that her memories of the present are evanescent and hard for her to remember. Angelina's living in the past to escape the pain of today.

"It will end, Angelina," George reassures her as he gently guides her into his joke shop. "One of these days the storm will pass; just you wait and see."

[-]


	46. blaise&ginny:magnetic(opposites attract)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "46. opposites attract"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Ministry of Magic"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "20. used"

13 March 2014. Pairing: Blaise&Ginny. Word Count: 394

**You hate him.  
**

* * *

**Magnetic  
**

[-]

You hate him so much that you cannot seem to function properly without him. It seems odd when you put it that way, but you've come to the realisation that you have to be completely and irrationally angry at him for you to feel like yourself again. The war made you forget who you once were but he reminds you. Every obnoxious sneer of his or taunting smirk reminds you of the fiery spirit you once had. And then you find yourself hating him and the way he can put the past in the past and forget the horrors of the war that made your generation grow up a little too quickly. You hate him.

You're an adult, though, and colleagues. You have to play nice and cannot hex him into oblivion like you used to. (Those were the good old days, weren't they?) When he attacks your work at the Ministry department meetings, you bite your lip and refrain from challenging his word. And he sits back, sprawled out casually like the typical guy he is, and accepts the thoughtful nods and pats on the back. _Good work, Blaise_, they all say. Then they turn and frown at you. _Pick up the slack, Ginevra_.

Who cares if you're a war hero? You are a ministry puppet, now. Your golden age has come and gone, and you've been used left and right by manipulators who disguise themselves as friends and co-workers. The world is ruled by his kind - the superior, arrogant, I'm-always-right-and-you're-always-wrong people - and there's nothing you can do about it.

It disgusts you, this passive person you've become. It disgusts him too, for sometimes when he stares at you there is this look of disappointment shading his eyes.

He's your opposite and destructive to your self-confidence. Everyone likes him and he makes sure to be the centre of attention at all times. He's not afraid to engage in workplace politics and criticise others. But like with heroes and villains, you cannot stay away from him. You need him to use as a focus for your anger. His personality is magnetic and attracts you in all of the most dangerous ways.

Oh, but you _like_ hating him. You _like_ the arguments and screaming at him until your voice is raw. And suddenly, you're addicted to him for all of the wrong reasons.

[-]


	47. lavender&ron: kismet (heart to heart)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "47. heart to heart"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Astronomy Tower"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "37. wish upon a star"

13 March 2014. Pairing: Lavender&Ron. Word Count: 299

**"Kiss me, kismet."  
**

* * *

**Kismet  
**

[-]

"Look," she says. "You can see Saturn from here." She's perched on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, standing with her arms out for a balance like a bird who is poised for flight.

He's inside the tower, safe on the stone ground. "Come back," he tells her. "You'll hurt yourself and fall."

She turns her head and smirks. "No, I won't. I'll _fly_."

"Lavender," he says worriedly. "Get down from there."

She makes a face but acquiesces. "Now I'm so far away from the stars."

"I never did like Astronomy or Divination, for the matter. Dangerously rubbish subjects."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous." Lavender goes over to her ginger-haired boyfriend and wraps his arms around her so that they're heart to heart and eye to eye. She loves it when she can feel their hearts beat in sync with one another; it makes her feel as if they were fated to be together. "Kiss me, kismet," she smiles.

He obliges and it's perfect like it always is. She sighs happily and drags him over to go look out the tower's window again. "Look! A shooting star. Make a wish." She closes her eyes and squeezes his palm. Lavender completes the tradition by thinking of her wish as she blows a kiss to the fading trail of starlight.

"What did you wish for?" Ron asks in typical tactless fashion.

"I can't tell you; it won't come true, then."

He raises his eyebrows. "Oh? Well . . . tell me, anyway," he says. Secrets were never his strong suit.

Lavender toys with the idea of sharing her wish, but she's pretty confident that it will come true regardless of whether the shooting star has anything to do with it or not.

"I wished that we would stay together forever and ever."

[-]


	48. tonks&remus: infinite (pulse)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: AU because they aren't killed by Death Eaters or magic in this drabble.  
**

Written for "48. pulse"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Battle of Hogwarts"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "43. last kiss"; Star Light, Star Bright Challenge "Supernova"; Gemstone Competition "amethyst"

13 March 2014. Pairing: Remus&Tonks. Inspired by: "Last Kiss" - Taylor Swift. Word Count: 330

**You're right there in front of me and everything I have ever wanted.**

* * *

**Infinite  
**

[-]

I wish I had your faith in our love. Your steadfast belief in us makes me stronger, and I feel so bad for taking more than I give in our relationship. You're my everything, Dora, and I don't deserve the purity of your heart. I know you'll murder me the moment you find out that I am here fighting without you, but it's for the best. We have Teddy to think of and to protect. If I die, he has to have one parent left - I won't subject him to a tragic fate like Harry's.

But then I see you standing amongst the fighters and I have to blinkblinkblink to make sure you're not an apparition. You're searching the crowd for something, and with a pleased jolt, I figure out that you're looking for me.

"Dora!" I shout and you come running to me.

"You _stu_pid_,_ _reck_less, im_pul_sive bastard!" you yell back and fling your arms around my neck. "I can't be_lieve_ the nerve of you! Leaving me all alone with Teddy like I am an invalid housewife - "

You're right there in front of me and everything I have ever wanted. I kiss you to shut you up, and though you continue to insult me afterward, you kiss me again and again like it's going to be our last.

"So," you grin excitedly, eyes changing colour to display every emotion you're feeling. I can see that your pulse is racing and a sudden adrenaline rush floods through my veins. "Where should we start wreaking havoc?"

I open my mouth to respond but a flicker of movement captures my attention. "NO!" I bellow out right when the blast rips through the wall to your right. "NYMPHA-"

You jerk your head in my direction but that's the last thing I see before you disappear underneath a pile of rubble. And then there's dust and screams and the world is falling all around me before it all crumbles away into a strange, silent nothing.

Your name is forever the name on my lips . . . just like our last kiss.

[-]


	49. harry&hermione: ballerina (reaction)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I'm writing this based of the OotP film scene and not the book, but it's still pretty AU.  
**

Written for "49. reaction"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. Grimmauld Place"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] "46. music box"

13 March 2014. Pairing: Harry&Hermione. Word Count: 455

**"Do you like it?"**

* * *

**Ballerina  
**

[-]

The fire roars happily in the hearth and the dining table is crowded with the Weasley family, Harry, and me. Sirius is lurking in the shadows as he keeps an eye on the festivities and makes sure Grimmauld Place is secure. I get the feeling that he wishes he could have bought Harry a Christmas present but Harry understands Sirius' house-arrest situation and wasn't expecting anything from his godfather, anyway.

The twins are acting the part of Santa and are passing out gifts to everyone. Except, they're Gred and Forge, so of course they screw with everyone. Somehow, Ron ends up with all of Mrs Weasley's hand-knitted sweaters while Bill receives all of the reject gifts. Mrs Weasley is a bit melancholy since Percy has sent back his monogrammed jumper, but she still smiles for the sake of the holidays. When Fred puts a red velvet jewellery box in front of me with the tag reading _From: Harry_, I think it is another mix-up and that Harry intended this to be received by Ginny.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Harry asks me when I try to capture Ginny's attention and pass the gift box off to her. His face has an odd expression on it. "That gift is for you."

"Oh," I say, blushing at how ungracious I must have seemed. "Are you . . . sure?"

He nods and still gives me a suspicious look. "Am I not allowed to get my best friend a Christmas gift?"

"No, no" I hastily say. "It's just . . . I thought this was for Ginny."

He dismisses that notion easily. "Why would I give her a - " He catches himself before he reveals the surprise of my present. "Just open it already, Hermione."

I carefully lift up the top of the velvet box and gasp at the treasure inside. "Harry!" I exclaim happily. "You didn't!"

It's not jewellery at all; instead, he has given me a music box with a ballerina poised in the middle of it, ready to spin. I cannot believe he remembered me mentioning all those years ago that I used to be a serious ballerina when I was younger. Now, magic has gotten in the way of my muggle hobby, and so I've had to drop it. I wind up the teeny crank and the tinkling notes of _The Nutcracker_ float through the air. The memories it brings nearly has me in tears.

Harry looks at my reaction to the present with worry. He has never liked it whenever I get overly emotional. "Do you like it?"

I gingerly set the box down before I throw my arms around him. "I _love_ it," I say sincerely. "Thank you so, so much."

[-]


	50. katie&oliver: pain (physical)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I don't feel like making a clever title, at the moment. This is after the cursed necklace accident.  
**

Written for "50. physical"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "10. St. Mungo's"; Your Favourite Hogwarts House Bootcamp [GRYFFINDOR] " 39. I wish I could obliviate the memories of us."

Ermagawd, this means I've completed my first (and probably only) boot camp! First participant to finish, too :) Goodness gracious, boot camps are a killer.

13 March 2014. Pairing: Katie&Oliver. Word Count: 260

**That's the trouble with girls: they're so hungry to be loved that they starve themselves of any other emotion. **

* * *

**Pain**

[-]

Katie was tough and didn't mind being physically hurt, but this was a new type of pain that was internal and emotionally crippling. She's had her fair share of broken bones and dislocated joints because of Quidditch, so she knows that time heals almost anything. However, how can time heal a broken heart?

She lay stiff as a corpse in her assigned hospital bed and obeyed all of the Healers' orders. At the beginning, she had a steady stream of visitors and inquisitive nosy students who all offered "get well" wishes. But as the days passed and Katie showed no signs of getting any better, the number of people who continued to visit her dwindled down.

_He_ never came to see her, though, and Katie wondered what she had done wrong. Before her accident, they were getting along quite well and at times Katie thought he was even _flirting_ with her. She had started to fancy her Quidditch captain, but that's the trouble with girls: they're so hungry to be loved that they starve themselves of any other emotion.

Katie doesn't like to feel so dependent on a person - especially not on an oblivious boy who doesn't reciprocate her feelings. She wishes she could obliviate the memories of them and go back to being her old self. Somewhere in the middle of all the Quidditch strategising and Transfiguration tutoring she had fallen in love with Oliver Wood, but now she wishes all those memories had never been made so that she wouldn't feel so torn up about his absence.

[-]


	51. gabrielle&fred: two left feet (logical)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: HAPPY PI IN THE SKY DAY, NERDS.  
**

Written for "51. logical"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Gabrielle Delacour"

14 March 2014. Pairing: Gabrielle&Fred. Word Count: 221

**"It'll be fun."**

* * *

**Two Left Feet**

[-]

She's beautiful, which is to be expected of a Delacour daughter. Her swish-y blonde hair cascades over her sunkissed shoulders, but her hair is shorter than her sister's and is feather-y and wispy like a pixie's gossamer wings. She seems to float and glow. Fred wonders why he's only noticed her now.

Gabrielle may be the bridesmaid but she's the one who first captures the attention of the wedding guests as she descends down the aisle before her queenly sister.

.

He's all smiles and gangly legs as he attempts to dance. Gabrielle grins to herself as she watches him and his twin bump purposefully into every dancing couple. It's logical to assume that they really _are_ terrible dancers - Fleur had recounted and giggled about their lack of balance at the Yule Ball - and Gabrielle is content to smirk at their attempts from afar.

The slightly lankier one, Fred, catches her eye and winks. All of the sudden, he's clumsily stumbling over to where she's trying to fade into the background.

"Will you dance with me?" he asks grandly.

She's mortified and a blushing mess. She doesn't want to dance or take any attention away from Fleur on her wedding day. Gabrielle tries to tell him no but her voice is hesitant and Fred Weasley doesn't really know the meaning of 'no', anyway.

"Come on," he says with a friendly smile. "It'll be fun."

[-]


	52. fabian&emmeline: threadbare (secondhand)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: HAPPY 3.14 DAY. "Be rational," says the square root of -1. "Get real," pi responds back.  
**

Written for "52. second hand"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Fabian Prewett"

14 March 2014. Pairing: Fabian&Emmeline. Word Count: 550

**"Why is it always you?"**

* * *

**Threadbare**

[-]

He finds her in a state of distress, wide-eyed and trembling underneath one of those flimsy secondhand blankets supposedly meant to help alleviate shock. She's a magnet for trouble, for she's consistently in the wrong place at the wrong time. He's an Auror and it's his job to rescue people, but he thinks that one of these days he will be too late and Emmeline Vance won't be so lucky. At some point, she'll become one of the victims instead of the survivors, and he won't be able to save her from fate.

The first time she has a near-miss with death was the day Death Eaters burnt down a Muggleborn-operated pub. Fabian remembers seeing her standing on the sidelines with the remnants of a once-burning building fading in the background. She had a generic grey blanket draped over her shoulders and a vacant expression on her pale face. When he and his Auror team had Apparated to the rescue, they'd found a girl with blank eyes staring at the world of smoke and ashes that rained down all around her.

"You're going to be all right," Fabian had told her as he'd led her over to the St Mungo's Emergency Healers.

"No, I'm not," she'd mumbled, but Fabian pretended not to hear her.

He found her months later at another vandalised crime scene. There had been a murder in an alleyway this time, and the forensics team suspected that foulplay had occurred. Aurors did not believe in coincidence, so Emmeline was regarded with suspicion and wariness. Fabian was told to stay away from that Vance girl, but deep in his heart of hearts he knew that she was innocent.

"Why is it always you?" he asked quietly, half to himself but half hoping she would have a plausible answer.

She shrugged from underneath the shock blanket and regarded him with those slate grey eyes. "Should it have been someone else?"

Terrible things happen in threes, though. The next time their paths cross, she's the Auror on a mission and he's the victim of an unpreventable catastrophe. Fabian had been out holiday shopping with Marlene and Benjy when the Death Eaters had ambushed them in Hogsmeade. He's shaking uncontrollably, his mind reliving the deaths of his friends over and over again. It's a horror film scene that he cannot stop seeing but the thing is this was real and everyone who had acted out a part did not ultimately live in the end.

Emmeline comes over to him, no longer a helpless girl but a heroine weathered down by the war in life. Upon recognising Fabian, she sits down beside him and makes him share the warmth of the threadbare blanket.

"Why does everyone assume this blanket will help with the shock?" he asks in bitter annoyance.

Her answering smile is sad and lovely, just like her eyes that are shining with unshed tears. "It's because they've never been in a situation to understand the uselessness of a silly old blanket." She wraps an arm around his quivering shoulders, and he realises she's the only surviving person here who understands the trauma of what he'd just gone through.

He's so very sorry no one was there to help her out those two other times the blanket had been proffered to her instead.

[-]


	53. winky&kreacher: kitchen duty (emotion)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: HAPPY PI DAY. 3.14% of sailors are _pi_rates.  
**

Written for "53. emotion"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Winky"

14 March 2014. Pairing: Kreacher&Winky. Word Count: 336

**One washes while the other dries, but it's a circular process of distraction and obsession governing these two elves.**

* * *

**Kitchen Duty  
**

[-]

Washing dishes isn't much fun, but Winky's no good at cooking or cleaning. The house elves unanimously agreed to put her on dish-washing duty since she's quite accident-prone and spends too much time playing with bubbles instead of doing anything productive.

Drying dishes isn't much fun, either, but Kreacher's been delegated to supervise Winky under the guise of helping her out with her chores. He's more functional than hiccup-y, bloodshot-eyed Winky, but not by much. The house elves secretly placed him with Winky so that they could keep an eye on both clumsy, bumbling elves.

She scrubs half-heartedly at crusty, dried-up plates. Then she catches sight of her rainbow reflection in one of the shimmering bubbles and she has to _pop!_ it so she cannot see her tear-streaked face. But then she sees herself again and again and soon the house elves watch in dismay as Winky succumbs to another wasted hour playing with bubbles. They can't see what Winky can in the bubbles, and they have no idea what to do with the little dysfunctional elf.

He dries carefully but he uses that filthy old polishing rag he's brought with him from Grimmauld Place. It's his prized possession and he won't give it up for the world. It bothers the other house elves, though, for he's unknowingly creating more work for them by drying the previously clean dishes with his dirty cloth. They want to ask him - nicely, mind you - to swap out his drying towel or use one of the freshly laundered Hogwarts tea towels, but Kreacher's temperament is still a force to be reckoned with and none of them want to upset him.

Both house elves are emotionally fragile. One washes while the other dries, but it's a circular process of distraction and obsession governing these two elves. They've both lost their masters to the darkness preying on those with pure blood, and now Winky and Kreacher are at a loss on what to do with themselves without their masters' orders.

[-]


	54. hermione&viktor: but i loved you (close)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: The ides of March have come but, aye, they have not gone. (Wow, people in the Roman Empire era spoke rather oddly.)  
**

Written for "54. close"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Viktor Krum"

15 March 2014. Pairing: Viktor&Hermione. Inspired by: "Love Somebody" - Maroon 5. Word Count: 228

**Is it even possible to love somebody who doesn't want to be loved?  
**

* * *

**But I Loved You  
**

[-]

"But I love you."

She closes her eyes as his bewildered voice echoes through her mind again and again.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks worriedly.

Is it even possible to love somebody who doesn't want to be loved? Hermione tries to tell him over and over that he cannot love her. She doesn't deserve it and wouldn't know what to do with his love. But he is stubborn and persistent. Viktor holds her close in his arms and whispers his affections into her nebulous hair.

"You are everything I've ever vanted, Herm-own-ninny. I think about you every single day."

She shakes her head furiously and wants him to stop talking. He is every girl's dream, but Hermione isn't every girl, is she? The more he says such wonderful, romantic things, the more she hates herself for rejecting him. Just a moment ago, they were dancing rather amicably at the Yule Ball. However, as they danced she realised her priorities had changed. She stumbled out onto one of the balconies to clear her mind.

"Don't you . . . love me, too?" Viktor questions a tad bit hesitantly.

She can't answer his question honestly. She can't do that to him and break his heart. Hermione remains quiet as she gulps in breaths of the frosty night air.

"But I loved you," he says sadly. "Vasn't that enough?"

[-]


	55. reg&narcissa: locket (broken)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: The soothsayer was right all along.  
**

Written for "55. broken"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Regulus Black"; 335 Pairing Challenge "Reg/Kreacher"; Star Challenge "Arcturus"

Canon divergence because obviously in the books Reg wasn't in possession of the locket before he went to the lake.

15 March 2014. Pairing: Regulus&Narcissa. Word Count: 299

**"That locket looks like it is cursed with Dark magic."  
**

* * *

**Locket  
**

[-]

"That's pretty," she says, pointing to the silver chain wrapped around your neck. "Is it new?"

You shake your head. "Family heirloom," you lie to your cousin.

Narcissa smiles kindly. "Wow, you're getting bits of your inheritance already?" she asks, only slightly jealous. "My parents won't give me anything until I am married to a Pureblood."

You shrug and toy with the engraved silver locket. It hisses slightly and heats up until your finger is burning from the metal, but you savour the pain of the enchanted locket.

"What photographs did you put inside of it?"

"The locket is actually, erm, broken," you stutter out uncomfortably. "The hinges and clasp are, you know, a bit worse for wear."

She studies you carefully. She knows you're lying - all Blacks know when people are lying - but she doesn't torture you for information like Bellatrix would've. Narcissa just nods thoughtfully and gives you a stern look. "You be careful, Reggie," she says. "That locket looks like it is cursed with Dark magic."

"I know," is your bland response. "Thanks for worrying." You give your favourite cousin a polite kiss on her knuckles before saying, "Well, I ought to be going. I have some pressing unfinished business I must attend to." You bid her adieu and call for your house elf. Kreacher appears immediately in Grimmauld Place's drawing room. "How would you like to accompany me to a lake, Kreacher?" you ask your loyal house elf.

"Kreacher would be most pleased, Master Regulus," he answers. "Anything for you, Master Regulus."

The locket burns hotter upon hearing Kreacher's words and your unwavering decision to destroy the accursed object. It tattoos the Dark Mark right where your heart knocks in your chest, and serves as a warning that signals your heartbeats are numbered.

[-]


	56. xeno&mrslovegood: eclipse (daze)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Stab me once, shame on you. Stab me thirty-three times, well, I guess I must be Julius Caesar.  
**

Written for "56. daze"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Mrs Lovegood"; Star Light, Star Bright Challenge "Nebula"; Disney Character Competition "Flik"

Canon divergence because in the books Mrs Lovegood dies in a failed experiment.

15 March 2014. Pairing: Mrs Lovegood&Xenophilius. Word Count: 517

**With a heavy heart, he made his choice resignedly and hoped that she would forgive him in the end.**

* * *

**Eclipse  
**

[-]

After years of trying to conceive, a miracle had happened. Stella Lovegood's wishes and prayers had been answered by some deity in the heavens, and now her belly was full and healthy with the promise of new life. Xeno had been in a daze of joyous disbelief when she had shared the good news with him, and ever since, their life revolved around the tiny little human bean.

Xeno began to renovate their castle of a house in preparation for the baby. He started project after project but never quite seemed to finish one before moving on to another. He built a nursery and decorated it in shades of yellow and white so that their child may always be happy and sunny. Stella passed the time in her studio painting abstract works of her favourite subject: outer space. She painted the celestial objects with the exact elements that they were made of, and sometimes her creations became a little too volatile and reacted explosively on the canvas. She and Xeno made sure that everything in their house was safe for their baby, though. Every decision they made all centred around one question: how will it affect our baby?

They painted and built and adapted their lifestyle so that it would be suitable for the baby. However, they could not speed up nature and had to wait nine months like every other expecting couple. All they could do now was wait for the birth of their miracle.

.

The two almost-parents had spent years upon years preparing for this moment, and now that it had come, it was all going by faster than they could have imagined. But something was terribly wrong, and there was way too much blood. Xeno rushed his wife to St. Mungo's and everything was a flurry of panic and nerves after that.

"Mr Lovegood?" the doctor said. "Will you step out with me for a moment?" Outside of the hospital room and away from Stella's ears, the doctor explained that the umbilical cord had wrapped around their baby's neck. To stop the asphyxiation of their child, the Healers would have to perform a Caesarian section. However, the surgery would have a high fatality risk on Stella's part, but if a decision wasn't made soon the Lovegoods would lose their child.

"You want me to choose between my wife or my child?" Xeno had asked in a hoarse voice. He knew what Stella's decision would be, but he wasn't sure if Xeno could allow his wife to do that to herself. With a heavy heart, he made his choice resignedly and hoped that she would forgive him in the end.

Stella's death snuffed the light out of Xeno's world. Suddenly, the birth of their daughter wasn't as sunny or as yellow as they had planned. Instead, a moon had come to eclipse the happy world Xeno had once lived in.

"Luna," he told the midwife. Xeno cradled his newborn daughter to his chest protectively as he said his goodbyes and placed a butterfly kiss on her deceased mother's lips. "Her name will be Luna."

[-]


	57. raven&godric: checkmate (read)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Et tu, Brutus?  
**

Written for "57. read"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Rowena Ravenclaw"; Disney Character Competition "Belle"

Godric and Rowena are young teenagers.

15 March 2014. Pairing: Rowena&Godric. Word Count: 550

**"Stop making fun of me."  
**

* * *

**Checkmate  
**

[-]

"You're in the library again?" he asked incredulously. He held his broomstick in one hand and was dressed in his Quidditch uniform. "But Ro, it's a beautiful day outside. Won't you come play a match with us?"

Rowena licked her finger and turned the page in her book. "I'm reading," she said plainly and did not take her eyes off the printed words. "I don't have time for such frivolous things like Quidditch."

He came over and peered at the title. "_Castles: A Chess Game for Aspiring Architects_." Godric raised an eyebrow at her and said: "B-o-r-i-n-g. Wait, does your book talk about Wizard's Chess?"

"No," she said. Rowena was starting to get annoyed - she had been reading the same sentence at least four times in the past five minutes now. "Go away, Godric."

"But it says in the title 'a chess game'."

"It's a metaphor comparing architectural strategies to those in chess."

"So it _is_ about Wizard's Chess!"

She finally dragged her silver-blue eyes away from the page and glared at the obnoxious Gryffindor boy. "I'm busy, Godric, so unless you want something, let me read in peace."

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. "No, no, I'm interested now."

"No, you're not."

Godric grinned easily. "Actually, I am. Continue explaining about your castles."

"Stop making fun of me."

He had the gall to look offended. "I would never!"

Rowena sighed. "Go away. You're breathing my air."

Of course, that comment provoked him to invade her personal space even more. He was so close that she could see herself reflected in his irises. "For someone so smart, you don't have great comebacks," he remarked casually.

She heaved another sigh. Godric really knew how to instigate a fight. "Your grammar is atrocious," she retorted back.

"Ooh," he sang out. "That _hurt_."

"Don't you have a Quidditch match to attend?" she changed the subject. "Aren't Sal and Helga waiting on you?"

"What's so interesting about your book?" he deflected, jerking his chin at the book on how to build a castle.

Rowena blushed. "It's silly," she said vaguely. "And not your business."

"Try me."

She shook her head, noted which page she was on, and shut the book closed. "Nope."

"Ro . . ."

"Nope."

"But I want to know."

"And I don't want to tell you."

He rolled those cobalt blue eyes of his and let out a humourless laugh. "Are you always this difficult?"

Shrugging, Rowena stacked her pile of thick books and shoved them into her bookbag. "Depends on how annoying you're being." She got up from the table and was about to leave the library but Godric had stood up as well and was gesturing towards her bookbag.

"Here, let me carry that for you."

"I can manage, thank you."

He blew out a breath that made his bangs flutter. "Stop being so bloody ridiculous and let me help you out."

"Why?" she demanded. "Don't act like you don't know I know you dislike me."

Godric blinked. "There were way too many negatives in that sentence," he pointed out ever-so-helpfully. At her stormy expression, though, he answered her question. "I don't . . . dislike you," he said, suddenly not directly meeting her probing gaze. Red blushed the apples of his cheeks and he peeked at her through his strawberry-gold eyelashes. "I like you a little too much."

"Oh," she said, thoroughly surprised by his candid response. It was odd to find out that his words did not bother her; on the contrary, she was _pleased_ with his reply. And for once, the witty and snarky Rowena Ravenclaw was at a loss for words.

[-]


	58. ernie&arabella: detour (cause)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: You've cat to be kitten me right meow.  
**

Written for "58. cause"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Ernie Prang"

16 March 2014. Pairing: Figg&Prang. Word Count: 265

**She loved him, once.  
**

* * *

**Detour  
**

[-]

Sometimes, when there aren't so many stranded witches and wizards waiting for the Knight Bus, Ernie likes to drive by her house. It's his indirect way of checking up on her without actually having face-to-face interaction. The little brick house she lives in is usually dark when he makes his route detour in the middle of the night. He usually pauses for a moment and stares at her closed windows and locked door. He knows it is a safety precaution, but he symbolizes the heavy security she has placed around her home: Ernie can never enter Arabella Figg's life again.

She loved him, once. They were two misfits and sources of shame in their magical society. Naturally, they understood each other and could empathise with the other's situation. She knew that he lived in his head more than reality and that his parents had abandoned him at an orphanage the moment they'd learnt of his lack of magical abilities. He knew that she loved house cats but that her brother was allergic and that Arabella was the cause of her parents' divorce.

He'd been foolish to think that they could have had a happily ever after. Squibs never know the meaning of happiness; they're always shunned and considered freaks of nature in the two worlds that they straddle. Arabella had married a man who wasn't him, and now she had no need of Ernie or his love.

"Come on, man," the shrunken head hanging from his rearview mirror says impatiently. "Let's go."

Ernie sighs but obliges and slowly drives away from his sleeping, oblivious love.

[-]


	59. fudge&umbridge: pink lady (reason)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "59. reason"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Cornelius Fudge"; Off the Block Competition "Freestyle Medium"

16 March 2014. Pairing: Fudge&Umbridge. Word Count: 239

**The only thing that was wrong with her was her obsession with _pink._  
**

* * *

**Pink Lady  
**

[-]

Cornelius Fudge was quite aware of the power he yielded as Minister of Magic. Most government officials of high importance exploited this power by having harems or illicit hush-hush affairs, but he had his eyes firmly set on only one woman: Dolores Jane Umbridge.

No other woman in the world could compare to Dolores. She was an exquisite model of the feminine species. Her sweet, girlish voice was innocent and youthful and her adoration for cats proved how open and caring her heart was. She was very organised and colour-coordinated, and her co-workers often said that she was a joy to work with. Cornelius was pleased with her effort and dedication to her post at the Ministry of Magic. He mused that it would probably be time to promote her sometime soon.

The only thing that was wrong with her was her obsession with _pink_. Looking at the obnoxious colour made his insides feel like they were coated with acid. He despised the revolting colour - Cornelius had been traumatised by a potion that had gone wrong when he was younger - which was quite unfortunate since it was apparently the only hue Dolores' clothes were.

But that was a superficial reason to not like the wonderful gem of a woman. Cornelius supposed he could set aside his dislike for her colour preference if Dolores could ignore that he was her boss. Successful relationships were all about compromise, anyway.

[-]


	60. crookshanks&norris: like a lion (sweet)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: These two just may become my animal OTP.  
**

Written for "60. sweet"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: Crookshanks"

16 March 2014. Pairing: Crookshanks&MrsNorris. Word Count: 404

**"I'm not _ginger_, I'm a delicate shade of blood orange."  
**

* * *

**Like a Lion  
**

[-]

"I am king of the jungle, hear me roooaAARRRRR!"

She giggles but immediately shushes me. "Crookshanks! Shh! Daddy will hear you if you keep yowling your head off like that."

"You mean Filch?" I ask in a stage-whisper. "That lazy old dirtbag can't do a thing to me."

Mrs Norris cuffs me on the side of my head. "Behave," she admonishes.

I bring a paw up to my head and rub where she's hit me. "Bossy and violent," I say with a melodramatic sigh. "Just like Her-meow-meow."

"Did I really hurt you?" Mrs Norris asks me worriedly. "I didn't mean to, Ginger."

"Norris, what have I told you? I'm not _ginger_, I'm a delicate shade of blood orange."

She rolls her eyes. "You've been listening to that Lavender Brown girl again, haven't you? Can't you tell by her name that she doesn't know a thing about colours?"

"Eh. At least she knows blood orange when she sees it."

Mrs Norris doesn't respond; instead, she stalks past me with her nose and tail raised haughtily.

Mouse droppings. Looks like I'm in the doghouse again. "Norris!" I call out, my voice echoing down the fourth floor's corridor. "You know I didn't mean it!" She ignores me, however, and continues to walk away. For all I know, she could be leading me straight to Filch and then he'd punish me by giving Her-meow-meow detention for not keeping me locked away in Gryffindor Tower at night. I have to_ - gulp - _apologise.

_Stop being such a pussy cat and do it_, I tell myself. But Mrs Norris is an intimidating feline at best and she's practically a nightmare when she's irritated. _You're not the cowardly lion, Crookshanks. You're the brave lion, king of the jungle. Let her hear you_ _roooaaA_ -

"Oh, for the love of Bastet, would you shut up?!"

I smile sweetly. "Are you talking to me again?" I make sure to keep my voice innocent and pleasant.

"Why do I even put up with you?" she asks exasperatedly. I can tell that she is amused by my antics, though, despite her reluctance to admit that yes, I am quite a funny cat.

I cosy up to her and twine my tail with hers. "Because you love me," I purr and rub our cheeks together.

She heaves a tiny sigh. "Yes, I do," she agrees and places her right paw over mine. "Heaven help me."

[-]


	61. neville&fatlady: password please (camp)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "61. camping"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "11. minor character: The Fat Lady"

16 March 2014. Pairing: TheFatLady&Neville. Word Count: 221

**"Rules are rules."**

* * *

**Password, please**

[-]

Oh, no, not him _again_. This has to be the seventh time (at the very least) in three days. She knows who he is but protocol states she must ask each entrant the password to get into the Gryffindor Common Rooms. Of course, in his case it's a password he has most likely forgotten.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," he say with a quivering jaw and watery eyes. "Won't you let me in? I promise I'll try harder to remember the password next time."

She sighs at the poor dearie. "What's the password, Mr Longbottom?" she asks anyway.

He looks down at the stone floor. "I don't know," he whispers, hot tears rolling down his face.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you in, then. Rules are rules." She clucks her tongue at him in pity. It's a wonder that the forgetful boy can even remember his own name.

"But I'm a Gryffindor! I'm a Third Year! Please, you have to let me in! I can't be caught camping out here past curfew."

The Fat Lady shrugs helplessly. "Password, please."

"Pumpernickel! Gillyweed! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Floccinaucinihilipification! Flobberworm!" he yells out desperately.

"Better conjure a bed," she tells him kindly since none of his attempts to guess the password were correct. "I hear that the stone floor is a wee bit uncomfortable and cold at night."

[-]


	62. lav&seamus: nightmare (monster)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: What an intense and strange AU I've created here. **

Written for "62. monster"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

Here you are, Colleen! Let's see . . . Fremione, George&Angelina, Draco&Luna, and now Seamus&Lavender. I think I'll also be able to squeeze in a George&Luna before this collection is over and done with :)

16 March 2014. Pairing: Seamus&Lavender. Inspired by: "We stopped checking for monsters underneath the bed once we realised they were inside of us." Word Count: 329

**_Safe_****. **

* * *

**Nightmare**

[-]

You think we're safe, but the thing is, safe is simply an illusion of denial. No one's ever safe when it comes to war.

We're running - Merlin, we always seem to be running - but we can never escape the claws of darkness that scrabble out our skin and hair as it tries to claim our hearts, minds, and souls. Sweat stings my eyes and blinds me in a salty haze. Your fingers thread through mine as you practically drag me along with you.

_Safe_. The word is a drumbeat branded into your bones as it guides you away from here. _Safe_.

First, all we knew was grey castle walls and cobblestone streets. But now our world is burning all around us and we're hastily retreating back into a forest that was once forbidden.

"Everythin's gonna be awright, Lav!" you yell at me in your panicked Irish brogue. An explosion somewhere off to our left deafens the world for a moment. Your lips are still moving but I can't hear a single word that you're saying.

Your berry blue eyes widen before glazing over in pain. You look down at your chest to see an arrow shaft skewering you through the gaps in your ribcage. Then your wounded eyes glance at me and the bow I've used as my trademark weapon ever since I was seven.

"How could you?" you gasp out.

I try to convince myself that I had no choice. Self-preservation instincts demand that I only worry about my survival and protection. I'm safer now that I'm all alone.

But Merlin, Seamus, your eyes. They haunt me and remind me every night that I am a monster. Right when the darkness prepares to snatch my heart away, brilliant blue eyes imprint themselves into my memory. They are clouded with betrayal and hurt, and I am sorry that I am not sorry at all. I am a killer, an assassin on a mission.

I did my duty.

[-]


	63. astoria&draco: fairytale (hold)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Don't let the title fool you. **

Written for "63. hold"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

Draco is a person. There is no bestiality.

17 March 2014. Pairing: Astoria&Draco. Inspired by: "I have seen the best of you and the worst of you, and I choose both." - Sarah Kay. Word Count: 333

**She used to dream about having her very own prince to love and hold for forever and ever.**

* * *

**Fairytale**

[-]

He holds her close to him but away from his heart because she's the type of girl who loves too much and he loves too little. And he may be selfish and she may be selfless, but they do love each other despite what the cynics say. He's not brave enough to let her go. She's fearless enough to tell him to stay, please Draco, just stay.

He's a dragon who burns in his own mistakes. Once, his fiery breath was something to revel at. Now, he's a scorned broken mess who lays wasting away in the remnants of a person who was once destined for greatness.

She's a princess who can never wear the figurative crown meant for her queenly sister. Astoria tries to be better and tries to be prettier and everything a Greengrass girl should be. That's not who she is, though, and she always falls short of her parents' expectations.

Her parents find her a prince, one like Astoria has always dreamed of. His name is Theodore Nott and he hails from a pure and noble lineage. He is in line for the throne of a prestigious kingdom she has never heard about. He's tall, dark, rich, and handsome and everything that her parents have ever wanted for Astoria.

She used to dream about having her very own prince to love and hold for forever and ever. Those were the misguided wishes of a blue-eyed, blonde-haired princess who thought all of the problems in the world could be solved with a wave of a faerie wand. She's still there, buried deep inside of Astoria, but she's grown up since then.

The prince fought valiantly to prove his worth to his betrothed. He slayed the vile dragon who haunted Astoria and presented her with the beast's severed head. He expected to be praised for his heroic conquest. Astoria smiled tightly, thanked Theodore, and then retired to her bed chambers so that she could cry for days.

She loved that dragon.

[-]


	64. george&luna: la lune (falling)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I hope I didn't sabotage your ship, Colleeeeeeeen.**

Written for "64. falling"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

17 March 2014. Pairing: George&Luna. Word Count: 455

**He's never been this awkward before, but everything is so different whenever he is with her.**

* * *

**la Lune**

[-]

It's dark and beautiful outside. Her eyes shine brighter than any star glowing in the night sky, and George thinks that he is the luckiest guy in the world to be able to call himself her boyfriend. They're standing right in front of the door that leads to the Ravenclaw Commons but Luna isn't making any move to leave. George swells up with pride when he realises that _he_ is the reason why her midnight blue eyes are sparkling and that _he_ is the reason why her constellation of freckles on her cheekbones are lifted up into the biggest smile he has ever seen.

They have just arrived back from a magical first date in Hogsmeade. She's a girl after his own heart: not once did she mention the dreaded Madam Puddifoot's but instead enthusiastically suggested to stop in Zonko's, Honeydukes, and Quality Quidditch Supplies. Luna is the best thing that has ever happened to him. She doesn't judge or expect him to be someone who he isn't. There is no pressure with her and it's so refreshing to just be his natural self whenever he is in her presence. Her quirkiness is endearing and her compassion and inner strength inspires him to be a better, purer person. George really wants to believe that they'll be one of the rare couples that survive outside of the bubble world of Hogwarts.

He opens his mouth hesitantly. He's never been this awkward before, but everything is so different whenever he is with her. He wants to say _I love you_ but keeps it to a simple, slightly stuttered "Goodnight".

Luna blushes and wraps her arms around him in a tight, warm hug before stepping away. "Goodnight," she says back shyly, and George thinks it may just be him, but he believes that he heard her own _I love you_ echoing in her two-syllable goodbye.

She answers the Ravenclaw riddle and skips through the doorway. She waves her fingers at him and blows him a tiny kiss. He, of course, catches it and clutches it to his heart in a typical dramatic George Weasley display.

When he can no longer see her shining silver-blonde hair, he allows himself to slump against the stone tower wall and loiter confusedly outside of the Ravenclaw entrance. He had learned a few things about Luna on their date: she's actually allergic to real turnips, she prefers pixies over faeries, and that she is afflicted with acrophobia. George knew it was probably too soon in their relationship to be making declarations of love, so he'd said "goodnight" instead of "I love you". But he was also wary of saying the three-letter-phrase because love also meant some falling and Luna is afraid of heights.

[-]


	65. james&lily: truth (lie)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I felt like being ridiculous with this prompt.**

Written for "65. lie"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

18 March 2014. Pairing: James&Lily. Word Count: 377

**"You love me!"**

* * *

**Truth**

[-]

"You want to play four truths and a lie? Why? Don't you already know enough embarrassing things about me?"

"Well, Potter, now I'll know a few more."

"Merlin, the things I do for you, Evans. But we have to include the Marauders if we're going to play. And alcohol. There's no way I'm getting through this without being thoroughly pissed."

"I'm not telling your mates any of my secrets, and especially not if you lot are piss-drunk."

"So . . . you want it to be just us two? You and me?"

"Yeah."

"I feel strangely honoured."

"Don't be. You can start."

"Er, all right. Hmm. I . . . like lilies, forgot to shave my face this morning, am an Animagus, don't like to swim, and . . . I have asthma?"

"You're not an Animagus; that's illegal. Wait. Don't tell me - _Potter_ . . . ."

"Erm."

"Do you know how dangerous that is?! What if somebody found out?"

"Someone will unless you keep your voice down. Merlin, Evans, it's not a big deal. Stop lecturing me."

"But - but -"

"Evans. You're not my mum. Quit nagging."

"But - what's your lie, then?"

"Oh. The asthma bit. It's Remus who has the weaker immune system. Your turn, now."

"Right. Of course. So . . . I'm the only redhead in my immediate family, the Hat tried to put me in Ravenclaw, I love you, I'm related to the Queen of England, and . . . hmm. I once broke my tailbone."

"You actually put a crack in your arse?"

"I won't tell you until you guess my lie."

"Bloody difficult, you are. And that's not a very nice lie, Evans."

"Which one do you think is the lie?"

"The 'I love you' bit. Everyone knows you don't."

"This is me telling you that isn't my lie."

"You . . . you actually LOVE me?!"

"Shh, keep your voice down. Good Godric, Potter. But yes, I do."

"You love me!"

"I'm quite aware of the fact."

"You love me!"

"Would you stop acting like a fool and just guess my lie already?"

"Your dad's a redhead, too. I saw him at King's Cross. And . . . you love me! Lily Evans loves me!"

[-]


	66. ginny&riddlejr: cyanide (gone)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: The usual warnings for this pair.**

Written for "66. gone"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

18 March 2014. Pairing: Ginny&RiddleJr. Word Count: 234

**His name is poison on her tongue. **

* * *

**Cyanide**

[-]

His name is poison on her tongue but she greedily embraces his toxic personality. He's addictive like a slow sweet narcotic that blurs reality and takes away her pain. Ginny feels safe when she is his arms. He makes her feel so very alive.

Tom takes her places where no one else has dared to venture. He's a reckless madman, selfish and unforgiving, but he is hers and she is his. He tells Ginny that she is the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She blushes shyly and loves him even more.

Later, they tell her that her relationship with Tom wasn't normal and that it was wrong. They take her away from him and set her fantasy world on fire. Suddenly, everything that had been so beautiful is now decaying rapidly as the acid eats away her heart and soul. They take Tom away from Ginny, and she doesn't know why he's been abruptly jerked out of her life. Words like _molestation_ and _rape_ and _abuse_ rain down upon her ears but that's not what happened in the Chamber. He had called it worshipping her body and showing her how beautiful she was. Once, Tom had even let the L-O-V-E word slip. Ginny had believed everything he'd said.

But now he's gone, and she's been left all alone with a tattered journal that will never have a happy ending written inside of it.

[-]


	67. fred&hermione: paper airplanes(watching)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "67. watching"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

18 March 2014. Pairing: Fred&Hermione. Word Count: 237

**Roses are red / my hair is too. **

* * *

**Paper Aeroplanes**

[-]

He scribbles on to a piece of parchment: _Roses are red / my hair is too / I like you / and that's the truth. Happy Valentines Day, beautiful. From: Your Secret Admirer. _Then, he folds the message up into a paper aeroplane and makes sure to crease the edges thoroughly so that it will fly straight and hit the intended recipient in the back of her head.

What can Fred say? He is a modern day Don Juan, for sure. There's no way Hermione will ever think to reject him now that he has composed such marvellously romantic Shakespearean poetry.

He's watching closely to see if the magicked aeroplane manages to blend itself in with the morning owl post. Fred hides a snicker when the aeroplane continuously hits his Second Year target in her bushy mane; she's oblivious and continues on chattering away to Ron and Harry.

"Erm, Hermione," Ron interrupts in his typical blunt fashion. He plucks the aeroplane out of Hermione's hair and passes it off to her. "I think you've got a secret admirer," he says with that ever-present tone of surprise.

"I do?" she says incredulously. Her eyes quickly scan the message, and then she cranes her neck to see if she can deduce who her anonymous admirer is.

Fred smiles to himself but refrains from watching her reaction anymore so he can be sure that he won't give his anonymity away.

[-]


	68. percy&penelope: for the holidays (home)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: AU where Percy marries Penelope instead of Audrey.**

Written for "68. home"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

18 March 2014. Pairing: Percy&Penelope. Inspired by: "I'll Be Home for Christmas" - Bing Crosby. Word Count: 140

**Please come home.**

* * *

**For the Holidays**

[-]

"Will you come visit me over winter break?"

"I would love to, Penny, but work's been a killer lately and . . . ."

"Just for one or two days, Percy? Please?"

"Minister Shacklebolt gave me a new case that needs immediate attention. I really can't put it off until the last minute."

"The children miss you. I miss you."

"Send them my love and best regards."

"Come home, Percy. I'm begging you, darling. You haven't stopped by the house in ages. The children can barely even remember that they have a father. I hardly ever see you anymore, and when I do, you're not the same man that I remember marrying. Forty-eight hours. That's all I want this Christmas - forty-eight hours of us as a whole family again."

"Penelope . . . ."

"Please, Percy. Please come home."

[-]


	69. teddy&victoire: carpe diem (birthday)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "69. birthday"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

18 March 2014. Pairing: Teddy&Victoire. Word Count: 168

**I remember you telling other people that you're named after the goddess Nike. **

* * *

**Carpe Diem**

[-]

It's a shame, really, that you and your name will always be associated with the Battle of Hogwarts. You and I are two people who are part of a generation that can't escape the past. We don't need any more reminders about a day that has scarred our families for forever, but they name us after the deceased anyway and expect us to save the world just like they did.

You're named after the victory of the Battle of Hogwarts since your birthday is on its anniversary day. And yet, I remember you telling other people that you're named after the goddess Nike. It's rather fitting since you always seem to be running away from reality and hiding from the truth.

The second day of May is celebrated extravagantly in the world we live in. To us, though, it marks the day our lives were planned out by our parents. It's the day they condemned us to live in the shadows of supernovas who had burned too brightly.

[-]


	70. lavender&greyback: neon (smile)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "70. smile"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

19 March 2014. Pairing: Lavender&Greyback. Inspired by: "Sparks Fly" - Taylor Swift. Word Count: 100

**Time always wins in the end.  
**

* * *

**Neon**

[-]

The fireworks echo the frantic beat of her heart. She's racing against time, but time always wins in the end. _Boom. Boom. Boom._ Her cursed world goes dark for a while and then explodes into a deceptively pretty display of sparks.

She's too late. It's all over for her in a matter of seconds.

His lips curl into a satisfied wolfish smile. The fluorescent lights dance over her quickly cooling skin. The blood that had dirtied her veins is congealing; he licks his lips hungrily.

"Dinner time," Greyback grins as he lopes over to the fallen body of Lavender Brown.

[-]


	71. cho&michael: invitation (talk)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "71. I want to talk to you"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

19 March 2014. Pairing: Michael&Cho. Word Count: 271

**Butterflies are suddenly fluttering in her tummy - that's never happened to her since Cedric's death.**

* * *

**Invitation  
**

[-]

"Hey, Cho?"

She pauses at the sound of his voice and turns around in the middle of the archway leading out of the Great Hall. "Yeah, Michael?" she asks as she shyly tucks a lock of hair behind her right ear.

"I want to talk to you. Do you mind walking up to Ravenclaw Tower with me?"

"Right now?"

"If you have time. I don't want to make you late to your classes or anything."

She smiles at his thoughtfulness. "No, I have a free hour before my morning classes start." He has caught up to her by now, and they continue up the ever-changing staircases in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, erm, wiffomuffagumpawump," he mumbles out in an incomprehensible jumble. He has turned bright red, though, and has suddenly avoided meeting her gaze.

"Pardon?" Cho asks, slightly confused his behaviour.

Michael clears his throat and says a little more slowly: "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

She's speechless; she would have never expected an invitation like this from him. "As friends?" she squeaks out. Butterflies are suddenly fluttering in her tummy - that's never happened to her since Cedric's death.

"Erm . . . that's not exactly what I had in mind," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

She stares at him perplexedly. "I thought you were with Ginny?"

"I thought you were with Potter?"

"Touché," Cho concedes. "Well, in that case, I'd love to. Go with you to Hogsmeade, I mean."

"Great," Michael says happily.

"Great," Cho echoes even more happily.

[-]


	72. sirius&tonks: imprisoned (while)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Platonic love, of course. I'm not a fan of (cous)incest.  
**

Written for "72. while"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

19 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Tonks. Word Count: 253

**And oh, how he missed creating mischief!  
**

* * *

**Imprisoned  
**

[-]

It had been a while since he'd seen sunshine. Azkaban was hidden in a corner of the world that never faced the sun which helped to keep despairing thoughts floating around for the Dementors to prey on. Twelve years inside of there had done wonders on Sirius' mentality; he hoped he would never set foot inside that prison again.

His new status as an escaped convict warranted him an informal house arrest, though. Dumbledore wanted Sirius to keep a low profile and basically stay in his room while pretending like he did not exist. That, of course, was practically an invitation for Sirius to break the rules. And oh, how he missed creating mischief!

She was a mastermind at creating mischief, too. Her metamorphmagus abilities were useful for inventing disguises and different aliases. Tonks stopped by Grimmauld Place every now and then for Order business, but she made sure to interact with Sirius and keep the walls of his childhood home from imprisoning him like Azkaban once had.

Their latest escape was to inner city London. It was a beautiful summer day. They'd taken their broomsticks, and as they flew, Sirius had the thought that he could die happy there in that moment. Leaving Grimmauld Place was pretty much suicide on Sirius' part, though, and of course the Dementors had found him once again. But as the soul-suckers swooped down from the heavens to steal his soul, Sirius was glad that he had managed to feel sunshine on his skin one last time.

[-]


	73. bill&fleur: animal (wild)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:**

Written for "73. wild"; Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge "12. pairing"

I've completed the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge, now! First one done, whoop whoop!

19 March 2014. Pairing: Bill&Fleur. Inspired by: "Animal" - Neon Trees. Word Count: 135

**"I don't want to be 'just friends'."**

* * *

**Animal**

[-]

"You can't love me," Bill says. "I belong in the wild."

_Lie._

"I'm dangerous. I'll only end up hurting you."

_Lie._

"We can't be anything more than friends."

_Lie._

"You'll never be satisfied with someone as broken as I am."

_Lie._

**Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.**

"I love you more zhan you'll ever know," Fleur says. "You belong with me."

_Truth._

"You're safe and cautious. Ze only way you could 'urt me is by saying we can't be togezzer."

_Truth_.

"I don't want to be 'just friends'. I refuse to be denied by you."

_Truth._

"I'll nevair be satsified living a life without you. I can fix you and make you whole again."

_Truth._

"What are you waiting for? Take a bite of my 'eart tonight and say zhat you love me, too."

**Truth. Truth. Truth. Truth.**

[-]


	74. harry&marietta: jaded (green)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: This isn't canon. **

Written for "74. green"; 335 pairing challenge "Harry&Marietta"

20 March 2014. Pairing: Harry&Marietta. Inspired by: "green with envy". Word Count:

**I would do anything for him. **

* * *

**Jaded**

[-]

It's hard being the girl who isn't noticed as much as her prettier, smarter, and more popular best friend. I feel invisible and hidden in the shadows of Cho's brilliance. Everyone knows of the gorgeous and talented Ravenclaw Seeker; if they even acknowledge my presence, it's a good day when I'm lucky to be referred to as merely 'Cho's best friend'.

I love her, I really do, but at times I feel like she takes me for granted. Sometimes, she acts really condescending and treats me as if I am another one of her fawning adorers.

And then, of course, there is the girl code. She just _had_ to go fall in love with the boy she knew I'd been fancying since last term. Harry had no idea that I existed or that I fancied him; however, the moment Cho decided she liked him, he started falling over his feet to cater to her frivolous whims. Granted, she didn't know that I liked Harry first, but I can't tell her now, can i?

Harry invited me to join Dumbledore's Army before he had asked Cho, though. He had smiled encouragingly and those beautiful green eyes of his sparkled beneath his eyeglass lenses. I accepted without a single hesitation - I would do anything for him.

Turns out that his little secret club is defying the Ministry and breaking almost every rule that is strictly enforced at Hogwarts. And, to make matters worse, he wanted me to join just because he knew Cho would come if I did. All along, he had been using me to spend more time in her presence.

Maybe ratting everyone out to Umbridge wasn't the best idea, but I had to get my revenge somehow.

[-]


	75. rose&lysander: parce que (brown)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: c'est mes parents le 27ème anniversaire, aujourd'hui. j'ai la foi amoureuse à cause d'eux. **

Written for "75. brown" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Sam I Am" ; Gemstone Competition "sapphire"

21 March 2014. Inspired by: "Mine (music video)" - Taylor Swift. Pairing: Rose&Lysander. Word Count: 450

**"And we're a team, you and me. Remember?"  
**

* * *

**parce que**

[-]

She's crying and it's awful and how could she have been _such_ a stupid girl for believing that he was any different from any other heartbreaker male? He wants too much of her that she cannot give. Rose slams her palms into the door until it gives way. Then she is running out of their house - his house - and away from the life they had started to build together. The world's a blur and she doesn't know up from down or wrong from right anymore. Once, she had believed their love would be enough but that's not how real life works. Minds change, decisions are made, and friends become strangers.

"Rose!" he yells after her. He's chasing her down the rain-soaked streets and catches her arm, turning her to face him. She's not trying that hard to outrun him - she _wants_ to be caught. She _wants_ to believe that he's her prince and that he can give her a happily ever after. But her heart hurts and she isn't ready to brace herself for another goodbye.

"I can't do this anymore, Lysander," she says. Her voice is quiet and she doesn't dare look into those hazel brown eyes of his, for she does, she knows her resolve will falter.

"Bull," he retorts back. "I know we're young and this love is big and scary and that you're deathly afraid of getting close to people, but Rose, you're not the only one in this relationship. I love you; I'm never going to stop or let you go. You're the best thing that's ever been mine. And we're a team, you and me. Remember? We're in this together."

She shakes her head miserably and wipes the tears from her cheekbones. "Zander . . . I can't. It's too much."

"Yes, you _can_," he replies forcefully. "Don't give up on us, Rosie. We can make this work out."

"I'm not what you want! I'm not worthy of your love. I take more than I give, and I get jealous easily, and you'll get bored of me, and - "

He tilts her chin up until she's staring into those brown_brown_**brown** eyes. "You're everything I want," he interrupts her. "And those were the worst break-up excuses I have ever heard." She's a hiccup-y, snotty, teary mess but he still thinks she's the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

"Why won't you let me go?" Rose asks him softly. Her words contradict her actions, though, for she's flung herself into his open embrace. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and her heart is pressed against his chest.

He kisses her with a sad smile on his face. "Because I love you."

[-]


	76. luna&neville: metamorphosis (girl)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: (bexasaurus, what type of prompt is _girl_?!)  
**

Written for "76. girl"

22 March 2014. Pairing: Luna&Neville. Inspired by: "SOS" - ABBA. Word Count: 330

**"I'm fine, Neville, really."  
**

* * *

**Metamorphosis  
**

[-]

"You seem so far away," he notes. "And yet . . . you're standing close to me."

She shrugs and keeps pruning and dead-heading the flowers in Greenhouse Three. They're working on an extra-credit assignment together for their NEWT level Herbology class, and Luna has been an excellent partner. However, she's a bit more distant than he remembers from their time in Dumbledore's Army together. Neville can't help but wonder what is going on with the Sixth Year Ravenclaw girl.

"Is it the Carrows?" he asks as he tamps down the soil around the mandrakes. "Did Snape or the Death Eaters hurt you in any way?"

"I'm fine, Neville, really," she smiles in what she thinks is a reassuring manner.

"No, you're not," he responds bluntly. "Please, let me help you." He wipes his fingers on his robes and places a hand on her shoulder. "What happened to the Luna I used to know?"

"I'm not the same girl anymore, all right?" she bites out with a sudden surge of venom as she drops her happy facade. He's a liar - the ones who think they care about her always turn out to be liars - and she just wants him to shut up. Her blue eyes are wild as she spits acrimoniously: "Stop making me be someone I'm not." Luna hates how he thinks he knows everything about her when in fact he does not know a single thing at all. Maybe the brave girl she had been two years ago was simply an act to hide the spiteful coward she is now. Maybe it was a disguise to hide who she has been all along.

She drops her pruners on the greenhouse table and shakes her head at his condescending naivety. "Look, war changes people. I can't help it that I am no longer the girl you once understood, Neville. But if you ever were my friend, could you do me one last favour? Just leave me alone."

[-]


	77. cho&cedric: waterfall (cry)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: warning for underage drinking.  
**

Written for "77. cry" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "The Cat in the Hat" ; Monthly Poetry Flood competition "March 2014: tired" ; Off the Block Competition "Backstroke: Extra Hard"

22 March 2014. Pairing: Cho&Cedric. Word Count: 339

**Alcohol tastes better from his lips.  
**

* * *

**Waterfall  
**

[-]

There's something beautiful about losing control of your mind.

(You raise the amber glass in a silent, mocking toast to no one but yourself.)

It's dark and bitter, an elixir coloured with the sweet sin of temptation. Time slows down and speeds up all at once until your perspective is a dizzying pendulum swinging back and forth from one reality to another.

(The bubbles and foam froth in a turbulent inferno in the pit of your stomach.)

Your throat burns and your heart hurts but you welcome the pain. For too long, you have been numb.

(Getting drunk all alone in a girls' bathroom isn't as glamorous as you thought it would be.)

You drown yourself in a waterfall of Firewhiskey until it stains your breath and carbonizes your soul. Your pores fizz from all of the bubbly tingles. They raise you higher and higher until you're close enough to inhale the neon of the fluorescent lights overhead.

(What are you doing to yourself?)

The bottle is raised to your lips again and again. Even when the liquid is gone, you breathe in the fumes and intoxicate yourself on the fermented past. Alcohol tastes better from his lips.

(He should have been here by now. He never let you drink alone.)

You can't remember wrong from right anymore or reality from alcohol-induced delusions. For some reason, the images of a hedge, a graveyard, and a trophy Portkey keep cutting through your foggy daze. You're too tired to even bother figuring out what they mean.

(Cedric's not coming.)

Is this your cry for help?

(He's never going to come rescue you again.)

The long-suppressed truth fights its way to the forefront of your mind despite your best intentions. You scream brokenly. The tears are falling faster than a shooting star and your raw voice is cracking like lightning in a thunderstorm. The bottle's empty, so you throw the useless thing at the bathroom wall where it shatters into a million powdery pieces. The aftermath looks just like your heart does.

[-]


	78. draco&astoria: drastic (never enough)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: sometimes my writing is pure shit. thanks for reading, anyway xoxo  
**

Written for "78. never enough"

23 March 2014. Pairing: Astoria&Draco. Inspired by: "Oh Christ, I just wanted you to fuck me. And then I became greedy: I wanted you to love me." – Tracey Emin. Word Count:

**You are still my favourite mistake.  
**

* * *

**Drastic**

[-]

I never planned on falling in love. My choice to be an eternal bachelor was going to be my rebellious "fuck you!" act to the ridiculous Pureblood traditions I'm expected to uphold. As the sole Malfoy heir, my family lineage would die with me. That terrified me - it would result in wasting generations of inbreeding and pure blood - but it also thrilled me because it meant there would be one less damned psychotic family trying to rule the world.

And then you came.

It was abrupt and chaotic. You gave me absolutely no warning before you turned my life upside-down and inside and out. Suddenly, everything wrong seemed right. We met in a dark alleyway with the throbbing nightclub's bass pulsing in our ears and the shadows blinding us from the other's identity.

Did I mistake lust for love that night? Was it wrong for me to bring you home and expect you to still be there in the morning?

Love and the promise of forever was never enough for you. I awoke alone on a cold bed scented with the memory of you. Your scarlet lipsticked lips, family crest tattoo, and heavy-lidded smokey eyes were branded into my mind. Everything had been real, despite you leaving without a physical trace.

I was never the same after that night. To you, it had simply been a one-night stand with a stranger. To me, it had been a climatic point of my life: I had found out that the girl I was arranged to marry was the same girl I loved.

I searched for you all over Britain and Europe but you and your identifying tattoo had went out of my life as quickly as you came into it.

I fell in love and am still a bachelor but not of my own volition. And despite everything that has happened following our encounter, I wouldn't change a thing. You are still my favourite mistake.

[-]


	79. lav&seamus: daisy (he loves me)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I haven't made a daisy crown in forever.  
**

Written for "79. he loves me" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Mrs Kangaroo"

23 March 2014. Pairing: Lavender&Seamus Word Count:

**They're typical teenagers. **

* * *

**Daisy**

[-]

There is a stash of jagged white petals littered across her lap. She plucks up another daisy flower from the dirt and repeats her game.

_He loves me_.

Lavender stares in the direction of the Irish boy who is goofing off with his friends over on the lake shore. They're taunting one another with ridiculous dares and being typical rowdy boys. A small smile flickers across her lips when Seamus is 'accidentally' shoved into the Black Lake. He emerges spluttering and water-logged but Lavender can see the mischievous twinkle in his eye even from her vantage point underneath a willow tree where she's been sunbathing. It's no surprise that his next move is to toss Dean into the lake.

OWLS are over and every sane Hogwarts Fifth Year is enjoying the lazy free hours before the summer holidays. The boys are showing ofF in the almost-summer sunshine and hoping that the girls will admire them; the girls are giggling and pretending like they aren't watching the boys make fools of themselves. They're typical teenagers, and for a moment in the secluded shelter of these castle walls, they can pretend that they aren't subtly preparing for a war.

_He loves me not_.

Seamus isn't like the other boys: his gaze never strays from his mates to glance surreptitiously at the willow tree where Lavender and her girl friends are soaking up the golden sunshine. She wonders why his beautiful eyes do not wander and look in her direction.

_He loves me_.

Her favourite memory of Seamus is from last year when they were at the Yule Ball. They hadn't gone together, but he had made the first move and asked her to dance. As they twirled - all right, more like awkwardly shuffled - underneath the enchanted ceiling, Lavender had felt invincible while in Seamus' arms. He told her she was gorgeous and he had whispered Gaelic sweet nothings in her ear. It was perfect and magical and she never wanted the moment to end.

But, of course, he was a typical oblivious boy and had to ruin it all with a tactless sentence.

_He loves me not_.

"I'm so lucky to have a friend like you, Lav," he had told her on that sparkling, flawless night.

Lavender reaches to tug off another white daisy petal but there aren't anymore petals left on this shredded flower.

[-]


	80. merope&riddlesr: it used to be (attack)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "80. attack" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Mayzie Bird" ; page 394 quote challenge "My stomach began to burn and churn inside"

24 March 2014. Pairing: Merope&RiddleSr. Word Count:

**I wish I could describe love. **

* * *

**It Used to Be**

[-]

I wish I could describe love.

I thought I knew how the world worked: some people were inherently good and deserved to be loved while others did not deserve such mercy. I, of course, was part of the former category; Morfin and Father were not. And Tom . . . God, I had believed Tom was the answer to the mysteries of the universe. I used to look at him as if he were the one who could make the seas part or the stars move in the night sky. I would have given him everything if he'd let me.

It used to be so nice pretending that he loved me back. But his glazed eyes and vacant expression never fooled me, and isn't love about learning when to let go, anyway? My stomach begins to churn and burn inside as I recall the pivotal moment in my life when I decided to wean him off the Amortentia.

He didn't love me - not a single bit. I had been such a fool to think that any of Tom's words were sincere. The fact that I was pregnant with his child meant nothing to his now-clear eyes, and he left without a second hesitation.

All my life I'd known of physical abuse, so I was unprepared by how painful this emotional attack on my heart was. I waited and waited for Tom to come to his senses and return into my waiting arms but he never came.

I think I know what love is now, but God, I wish I'd never found out.

[-]


	81. rita&lockhart: faboo (excuse)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Morgaaaaaan, look at the title :3**

Written for "81. excuse" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "Dad" ; Disney Character Competition "Maleficent"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Rita&Lockhart. Word Count: 550

**"What game are you playing at, Skeeter?" **

* * *

**Faboo**

[-]

He saw her first. (Actually, if she's telling you the story, she'd say it was the other way around.) She was kind of hard to miss what with her coiffed platinum blonde curls and scarlet letter lips. Perhaps he should mention that they met at a funeral - the great Peter Pettigrew's funeral, no less. It had been the scandal of the century - friendship betrayal, the Dark Lord vanquished, a baby boy surviving the Killing Curse with the corpses of his parents lying on the floor - and so of course both Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart saw it fit to be present at the funeral though they had no clue who this deceased Pettigrew person was.

Anyway, back to how Lockhart saw her first. Rita Skeeter almost always looked like a hot mess, but he'd have thought she would have toned herself down for a sombre occasion. Alas, that apparently was not the case. The wretched woman was here - without any reason to be, mind you - and had her ostrich plume poised greedily over her enchanted parchment so it could poison the words of an innocent bystander. Her beady eyes flicked back and forth excitedly as she wrote down whatever delusion she saw in the mourning crowd.

"Skeeter," he all but sneered as he approached her. "What's your excuse for being here? Last I heard, the _Daily Prophet _had given you the slip."

She raised her penciled-in eyebrows. "Oh? Is that what sort of silly nonsense they're saying about me these days? Gildy, my faboo darling, I thought you had the sense not to believe those good for nothing liars."

"They're not the ones who are trying to cover up the truth," Lockhart stated bluntly.

Rita scoffed and waved his accusation away with a perfectly manicured hand. "I'll have you know that Peter Piper was a _very_ dear friend to me. His tragic death was a terrible loss."

"Surely you could have come up with a better alibi."

"Why? You never believe a single word I say. What's the point of wasting the truth on a non-believer?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What game are you playing at, Skeeter?"

"Nothing you should be concerned about, of course," she smiled coyly. "Now, if you'd pardon me, I have a funeral to attend to." Rita swept past him in a billowing, over-perfumed cloud of self-importance.

x

The next day, there was a front-page article in the _Daily Prophet_ with Gilderoy Lockhart's smiling face displayed proudly underneath a page of his quotes slandering the funeral and Ministry when in fact he'd been sneering at Rita.

"Dammit," he cursed as he realised that he'd forgotten about her QwikQuotes quill that had been scribbling away during their little row at the funeral. He looked at the newspaper again and read the article in disbelief. She'd even had the nerve to lie to his face about not being a Prophet reporter anymore! His ex-lover was a vengeful witch and quite bitter towards him in the wake of their break-up. They were the two prominent figures in paparazzi tabloids - her as the reporter and he as the most photographed subject - but ever since they split up a year ago, they had been on less than amicable terms. Rita was hell-bent on destroying his reputation, and this article that he'd unknowingly made for her yesterday had paved her way.

Lockhart ripped his paper to shreds and grabbed his wand. Two could play this game of revenge. It seemed to be that Rita Skeeter was in need of a well-placed Memory Charm.

[-]


	82. sirius&lily: sin (passionate)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I stole the locked-in-a-broom-closet idea from Colleen's "Two Can Keep A Secret".**

Written for "82. passionate" ; Disney Character Competition "Flynn Rider"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Lily. Word Count: 550

**It wasn't supposed to be him.**

* * *

**Sin**

[-]

It wasn't supposed to be him. Lily had everything in her life planned out: graduate Hogwarts, find the cure for lycanthropy and spattergroit before she turned thirty, and become the youngest witch awarded with an Order of Merlin First Class for her medical achievements. Maybe, if she decided she had the time, she would fall in love and get married (preferably to a certain Potter boy).

What she did _not_ plan for was a blind date Dorcas Meadowes had coerced her into. "It'll be fun!" Dorcas had said in a suspiciously chirpy voice.

Right. Lily snorted in disbelief as she took in the mildewed environment of one of the many abandoned Hogwarts' broom closets. Fun.

She'd heard stories about these broom closets - they liked to trap students into them by sucking quarrelers into their vortex and locking them there until they kiss and made up. Lily winced. There had been a few stories where the students had taken the figure of speech a little _too_ seriously. But, seeing as she was the only one in the closet at the moment, she had to wait for the next victim to become trapped in here, too. Only then could she start devising a plan of escape.

She blew out a noisy breath. Lily had been on her way to the rendezvous point with her blind date when she'd gotten sucked into the broom closet. She hoped her date wouldn't think she was skiving off or ditching them.

"Shit!" a distinctly male voice cursed before the closet door flew open. He flailed but could not right his balance in time, and they went crashing down onto the floor. The door banged shut behind him and there was an audible _click_ as it locked itself.

"Get off me!" she yelled back and tried to shove the boy off of her. He complied easily but in the darkness they could not see or identify who the other was. "Potter?" Lily asked tentatively since he was the only bloke she knew she quarreled with on a regular basis.

"Oh c'mon, Lily flower, you can do better than that," he drawled out. "I'm obviously handsomer than Prongs."

Lily shuddered. Great. It was a Marauder. Judging by the over-inflated ego, the only plausible option left was: "Sirius."

He stood up. "What're you doing out past curfew, Evans?"

"I'll have you know that I was about to go on a date," she answered primly. At his scoff, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't sound so surprised."

"No, no, I'm just laughing at the coincidence. You see, _I _was about to go on a date, too . . . ." His voice trailed off when they realised that it wasn't coincidence at all.

"Bloody hell, Dorcas," they cursed their mutual friend at the same time.

"Well," Lily said awkwardly. "You do know the only way to get out of here, right?"

"I have to kiss you?" Sirius sounded thoroughly repulsed.

"If it bothers you so much, I'll kiss you first." She got up from the ground and pecked his lips before he could respond. Then, she went over to the door but it was still locked.

"You have to _mean_ it, Evans," he smirked lazily. "You call that a kiss? It'll have to be more passionate than what you just did." He strutted over to her and gently held her face in his hands. "Relax." Their lips met softly and steadily. Lily found herself responding eagerly despite her best intentions, and it wasn't too long before Sirius was deepening the kiss. He was, no doubt, an excellent kisser.

The whole time, however, she couldn't help but think that he wasn't supposed to be the one who could make her feel like this.

[-]


	83. ginny&colin: one day (big)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Let me get on my feminist soap box for a couple hundred words, all right?  
**

Written for "83. big"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Ginny&Colin. Word Count: 270

**"One day, you'll be making history."  
**

* * *

**One Day  
**

[-]

Ginny knew that she was meant for something bigger than Hogwarts and settling down simply to raise a family like her mum had done. She was part of a generation where girls were progressive and assertive; they were just as smart and hard-working as men were, if not more due to a girl's need to constantly prove everyone of her worth. Her plan was to become famous and make a name for herself. The cynics could say whatever they wanted about that Weasley girl, but she was going to prove everyone wrong. She _would_ do it.

(How do you tell an eleven year old that some dreams can't come true?)

She knew about the double-standard a little too well. Growing up with six brothers had opened her eyes to the privileges males received but were denied to females. Quidditch, her one true love, was a prime example of the bias in athletics. She was undoubtedly the best flier and Chaser in her family, yet she was not allowed to try out for the Quidditch team her First Year even though Harry Potter had been able to do so.

Only two people in the world seemed to understand Ginny Weasley. One was a manipulative person trapped in a diary; the other, a real boy who had a pure heart and wanted the best for her.

"One day, you'll be making history. Everyone will see your potential and talent. No one will suppress you anymore - you'll be able to be yourself. One day, these things will change," the boy with the camera promised.

(Was it wrong for her to believe him?)

[-]


	84. hermione&hugo: platform 9 (one thing)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "84. one thing"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Hermione&Hugo. Word Count: 265

**"Don't listen to your father, Hugo."  
**

* * *

**Platform 9 3/4  
**

[-]

"Hat?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Scarf? Gloves?"

"They're all packed."

"You've got your textbooks? All the quills you need? Spending money?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Clean underwear?"

"Dad! Stop embarrassing me!"

"No one can hear me, Hugo."

"Honestly, Ronald, a little tact, if you would."

"Yes, dear."

"Ew! Gross! Mum, Dad, we're in public! You can't snog where everyone can see you."

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

"All right, all right, son. Have a good year, yeah? Stay out of trouble, don't study too much, and make loads of friends."

"Ronald! Don't listen to your father, Hugo. Study as much as you need to make good marks. We expect the best of you."

"No pressure, mate."

"Mum, Dad, I've got it. I'll be fine."

"Just . . . don't go off gallivanting with Slytherins like your sister seems to be fond of doing. Merlin, Hermione, we're going to have to keep an eye on that Malfoy boy."

"Rose is a big girl; let her be herself and make her own decisions."

"You should let me make my own decisions too, you know."

"You're my baby, Hugo. It's my job to mollycoddle you. And don't roll your eyes at me, young mister."

"I'm going to board the train, now."

"Don't sound too excited to be leaving us, mate."

"Yeah, yeah. Bye, Dad. Bye, Mum. You'll write me, won't you?"

"Of course we will. Give Hagrid and Professor Longbottom our love."

"Sure. See you in June."

"Wait! Hugo, one last thing."

"Yeah?"

"I love you, baby. Your father and I are so very proud of you."

"Thanks, Mum. I love you, too."

[-]


	85. myrtle&draco: mirrors (wondering)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "85. wondering" ; Oh The Thinks You Can Think Competition "The Grinch" ; Off the Block Competition "Breaststroke: Hard"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Draco&Myrtle. Word Count: 299

**The mirrors refract her memories until she's left wondering what's real or not.  
**

* * *

**Mirrors  
**

[-]

She's always surrounded by the past. It's reflected to her in the cracked tiles of her bathroom and the pipes that run through the walls. When she closes her eyes, she can still hear the hissing and the crimson eyes of death. The mirrors refract her memories until she's left wondering what's real or not.

Time passes her by and distorts her reality. She's stuck in a spiritual ghostly form and cannot escape the choice she had made when she'd died. When she was thirteen, it had seemed like a good idea to haunt her bathroom so she could torment Olive Hornby and everyone else who had made her life miserable; now that they'd graduated and had moved on with their lives, Myrtle is left behind all alone yet again.

Sometimes, people visit her bathroom and attempt to comfort her, but they don't understand her melancholy or her simultaneous refusal and need for isolation. And as the generations keep evolving, Myrtle starts to realise that less and less people care for the crying girl stuck in the unused first floor girls' bathroom.

But then _he _came along. It's been four years since that dreadful Chamber was opened, and Myrtle hopes that he's not here to unleash the horror again. To her surprise, though, this blond and pompous-obviously-a-pure-blood boy breaks down and shatters into pieces right in front of her very eyes. He sobs out his secrets after she swears she won't tell anyone (there's no one who'll listen to her, anyway).

The mirrors keep Myrtle trapped in the past, but they've also brought her a friend from the present. The sadness that radiates from her bathroom is enough to suffocate any sane person into being depressed. However, with Draco here, Myrtle finds out that she's not so lonely anymore.

[-]


	86. lavender&cormac: slug club (should)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: a certain somebody suggested this pair. I do realise Lavender and Ron weren't present in the canon Slug Club Christmas party, but whatever.  
**

Written for "86. should"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Cormac&Lavender. Word Count: 370

**What a waste this night had been.  
**

* * *

**Slug Club  
**

[-]

"She ditched you again?" Lavender frowned at the partner-less Cormac McLaggen. He shrugged and helped himself to another biscuit at the refreshment table of Professor Slughorn's Christmas party. "Godric, the nerve of that rude girl. How anyone likes her, I'll never understand."

"She's pretty," Cormac supplied ever-so-helpfully.

"No, she's not," Lavender retorted. "Girls like her can never be pretty."

"Well . . . she's not unattractive," Cormac replied.

Lavender stared unabashedly in Hermione Granger's direction. Hermione seemed to be putting as much distance as she possibly could between herself and her date. "Is she . . . is she trying to run away from you?"

"Me? Why would she do that? Everyone loves me," Cormac said and stuffed another biscuit in his mouth. Crumbs spilled out of the corners and onto his suit lapel.

"Yes," Lavender remarked dryly. "A real charmer, you are."

"What about your date?" Cormac asked. "Where'd he disappear off to?"

"Who, Ron? He's . . . erm, I - I think he said something about the loo," she stuttered out uncomfortably. At the same exact moment, though, a flash of ginger hair caught the eyes of both Lavender and Cormac.

"Right. Bathroom," Cormac said as the two of them watch Ron and Hermione converse with each other instead of their dates.

Lavender avoided looking at Cormac. She knew Ron obviously preferred Hermione's company, but she hated being second best to his best friend. Lavender was Ron's girlfriend - she should have been his first choice, right?

"Seeing as they're not going to come running back to us anytime soon, may I have this dance?" Cormac asked her, gesturing to the dance floor where a slow song was playing.

She shrugged, feeling stupid and out-of-place in her pretty party dress and sparkly heels. What a waste this night had been. "I guess," Lavender agreed since she had nothing better to do.

However, when she was trying to fall asleep that night, it was the memory of Cormac twirling her in his arms and telling her she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life that kept her awake and smiling until her cheeks hurt. She had all but forgotten about a certain Ron Weasley.

[-]


	87. gabrielle&anthony: library (cold)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "87. cold"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Gabrielle&Anthony. Word Count: 513

**"I'll 'ave you know zat I almost _died _today."**

* * *

**à la bibliothèque  
**

[-]

She would always remember Anthony Goldstein because he had been the first person who did not comment on her beauty when they'd first met. She was relaxing in the Hogwarts library after her stint in the Black Lake for Fleur's Triwizard event when he had come in - rather noisily, she might add - and started browsing through the bookshelves.

"D'you know where Pince is?" he said without looking in her direction.

Gabrielle was affronted. Never had a boy ignored her or addressed her so plainly before! "Non," she shrugged, the nubby towel around her neck slightly chafing her damp skin in the process. "Madame Pince eez not 'ere at ze moment."

Upon hearing her accent, he had turned around to (finally!) acknowledge her presence. "Beauxbatons?" he inquired.

She gave him a very French look that involved raised eyebrows, pursed lips, and a _what do you think_? expression on her face.

"Why aren't you down at the Triwizard event?"

"Why aren't you?" she shot back.

He smirked. "Studying," the boy explained, gesturing to the library books surrounding the two of them. "Something _you_ obviously don't know about since you're just sitting there and staring into space."

Her eyebrows crawled even higher onto her forehead. "Pardonnez-moi?" Gabrielle said in a dangerously high-pitched voice. "I'll 'ave you know zat I almost _died _today."

The boy nodded in mock-sympathy. "I hear book dust bunnies are a killer." He gave her a once-over and wrinkled his nose. "Was it raining in here or something? Or is sporting the drowned rat look a new fashion statement in France?"

"You, monsieur, are ze rudest and foulest person I 'ave ever met," she scoffed.

"I don't think you've met a lot, then, because I can assure you that I have a stellar personality and am a very appealing person."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "What did you need from Madame Pince, anyway?" she asked. She was hoping that she could get the rude boy to leave the library so that she could relax in front of the library's fireplace in peace and quiet once again.

"Just a book," he responded airily. "Doubt you could help me find it."

"Go away, zen," she said rather plainly. "She won't be back for a while, you know. Ze final results of today's Task 'ave not been revealed yet."

The boy did the opposite of what Gabrielle had told him. "You still haven't answered my question, you know. Why are you dripping wet and shivering? It's not cold in the library."

"I was tossed into le Lac du Noir against my own will."

"No, really."

Gabrielle regarded the boy. "I'm being serious." She smoothed out the pleats in her Beauxbatons uniform skirt and picked imaginary lint off of her blouse. "Well?" she asked after a moment of awkward silence. "No snarky comment from you?"

"People must really dislike you."

"Actually, I zink you're ze only one so far."

Surprisingly, he laughed at that. "You're feisty, Blondie."

"_Blondie_?" she all but screeched. "Je m'appelle Gabrielle, thank you very much."

"And I'm Anthony. Nice to meet you."

[-]


	88. draco&pomfrey: holy hippogriff (hot)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "88. hot" ; 335 Pairings Challenge "Draco/Pomfrey"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Draco&Pomfrey. Word Count: 290

**"My father will hear about this."  
**

* * *

**Holy Hippogriff  
**

[-]

The two things Poppy Pomfrey likes are children and medicine. She thought that combining her two loves in life would have been a wise decision, but alas, days like today make her regret her choice in becoming a pediatric Healer instead of a surgeon at St. Mungo's. In general, children are energetic and accident-prone but also cheerful and forgiving. They all deal with pain differently - some are more vocal and emotional while others are brooding and contemplative.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be that Draco Malfoy was all of the above.

Ever since the Third Year had been carried into the infirmary, Poppy had not received a single break from catering to the boy's every need. "I'm too hot," he would whine. She would then place him over his bedsheets only to have him complain a quarter of an hour later: "I'm too cold". When she inspected his injury, he insisted that his arm was broken when, in reality, the hippogriff had barely scratched him. By the end of his duration cooped up in the infirmary, Poppy was ready to strangle the obnoxiously needy boy.

"Hush up," she muttered as she bandaged the Malfoy boy's arm for (hopefully) the last time.

"My father will hear about this," he sneered back.

_Brilliant idea_, she thought sarcastically. _And then let's see how well you fare without a school Healer the next time you get 'hurt'_.

"Holy hippogriff," she muttered and let out a sigh of relief the moment she had discharged him. He'd sauntered out of the infirmary like he owned the place. Poppy shook her head in disbelief at the arrogance of that insufferable child and reminisced back to the times when children were as sweet as that Remus Lupin boy.

[-]


	89. ginny&dean: beautiful disaster (shaking)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "89. shaking"

25 March 2014. Pairing: Ginny&Dean. Word Count: 168

**"I can't stop. I thought I could - for you - but I can't."  
**

* * *

**Beautiful Disaster  
**

[-]

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"Dean . . . ."

"After everything, you think that it's all right to lie to my face?"

"Please, don't make me do this - "

"Don't make you do what, Ginny? Say the truth for once?"

"I love him."

"I know."

"I can't stop. I thought I could - for you - but I can't."

"I know."

"We can still be - "

"No, we can't."

"Stop shaking your head at me. Yes, we can, and we will. I'm not ready to give you up - "

"Ginny. Stop."

"But - "

"We're not right for each other, all right? The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for the both of us."

" . . . who's breaking up with whom?"

"I believe this is what people call a mutual split."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Gin?"

"I really did try to love you. I'm so sorry that I couldn't love you enough."

"I'm sorry, too, because I actually did love you."

[-]


	90. victoire&teddy: earthquake (tremble)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I had a graffiti!AU written for this prompt but turned out to be a one-shot. Oops.  
**

Written for "90. tremble"

26 March 2014. Pairing: Victoire&Teddy. Inspired by: "I desire the things which will destroy me in the end." – Sylvia Plath. Word Count:

**She was a natural disaster.  
**

* * *

**Earthquake  
**

[-]

Her name was Victoire. His was Teddy.

She was a natural disaster.

He was the eye of a hurricane.

At best, she was clumsy and destructive. Her volcanic temper had no limits, and the fire she spewed mercilessly burnt her victims.

At best, he was soothing and calm. His quiet positivity brightened the mood of everyone in his vicinity, and his ever-morphing brilliance was a trait to marvel at.

She didn't believe in love.

He, of course, did.

Their colliding friction was inevitable. When it happened, the earth trembled in warning and seas crashed upon continental shores in the aftershock.

A gaping chasm occurred in the earthquake's aftermath. He never planned on heartbreak. She didn't expect anything but.

In the end, though, whose fault was it?

[-]


	91. rose&scorpius: compass rose (hands)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Titanic!AU. I know it's short, and I'm sorry.  
**

Written for "91. hands" ; Disney Character Competition "Hades"

26 March 2014. Pairing: Rose&Scorpius. Word Count: 500

**"I don't want to live without you!"  
**

* * *

**Compass Rose  
**

[-]

He was her North, the one concrete person who gave her life direction and purpose. Scorpius was seventeen and caught somewhere in-between being a boy and a man when Rose had met him on the RMS Titanic. But despite his youth and her naivety, they'd figured out what exactly the elusive emotion _love_ was in the four short days they had spent creating mischief together. However, their little bubble world of happiness popped at the same time the unsinkable ship hit the iceberg.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" she whispered as the water level began to rise in the room they were trapped in. A random bed frame had tangled itself with the doorway and blocked the two teenagers' escape route.

"No," Scorpius lied because he couldn't let Rose give up on her only chance for survival. "We're going to survive this; just you wait and see."

She smiled weakly. "I guess we could swim our way out of here," she suggested lamely. "But Scorp, the water's freezing. We'll get hypothermia and freeze to death."

"Then we'll have to swim faster, won't we? Come on, Rose, we can do it. Together, anything's possible." He grabbed her hands and led her over to their barricaded doorway. The water had risen to his waistline, but Scorpius paid no mind to it. "Think you can slip through the slats?"

Rose bit her lip. "Yeah . . . but can you?"

He gave her one of his infamous smirks. "Is the lady doubting me?"

She laughed even though it was the wrong time to do so. "All right. Follow my lead."

Rose sloshed through the icy water and grabbed on to the metal bed frame. It was a tight squeeze and her shoulders got stuck halfway through, but with a determined push from Scorpius she had been able to make it into the flooded hallway. Rose turned back to look at him with wide, frightened eyes. She was definitely more slender than he was - there was no possible way Scorpius would be able to make it through.

"It's okay, shh, I'll be okay," he promised from the other side even though he would be anything but.

"No!" she screamed. "Scorpius!" Rose grabbed onto his hands through the metal slats of the bed frame and held him tightly to her. "You promised. You said we would both survive this," she reminded him. "I'll find someone who will be able to help you out of here. I don't want to live without you! I'll be right back; just hang on!"

Rose was the first to let go. She sloshed her way to the upperdeck as fast as she could, but the ill-fated ship could not spare a single soul to help her save her love. An unknown stranger placed her on a lifeboat crowded with other women and children despite her pleas and cries to go back for Scorpius.

Only one of the doomed lovers survived the tragedy that April night.

[-]


	92. katie&oliver: comet (wish on a star)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: Here's a fluffy drabble to make up for the angst that occurred when I last wrote this pair :)  
**

Written for "92. wishing on a star" ; Star Challenge "Arcturus"

27 March 2014. Pairing: Katie&Oliver. Inspired by: "Airplanes ft. Hayley Williams" - b.o.b. Word Count:

**"That was brill, Katie."**

* * *

**Comet  
**

[-]

"Hey, Owl, the Quidditch Pitch closes for the night in ten minutes!"

Katie shifts on her broomstick and lowers herself closer to the ground until she is hovering next to her team captain. Oliver shades his eyes from the stadium lights as he looks up at her. "Just a little longer?" she pleads. She is a night flier - hence Oliver's nickname for her - and she's not quite ready to stop flying at the moment. Before Oliver had interrupted her, she'd been practising her Quaffle throws.

He sighs reluctantly. He appreciates the Fourth Year's dedication to the sport but McGonagall instilled and enforced a curfew for a reason. Indecision colours his hazel irises. "All right," he says slowly after he makes up his mind. "But I'll have to chaperone you."

Katie laughs. "Is that your way of inviting yourself to fly with me after hours?"

Oliver summons his broomstick and mounts it. "In your dreams, Owl," he winks and zooms up next to her. He quickly ditches her, though, and takes up his usual position in front of the Quidditch hoops. "Hit me with your best shot!"

Katie rolls her eyes at his typcal display of arrogance and exuberance but she complies nonetheless. She grabs her practice Quaffle and takes off like a comet as she blitzes an improvised strategy she'd devised a quarter of an hour ago. Oliver's eyes widen in surprise before he narrows them in determination and prepares himself for her shot.

She aims the Quaffle and times herself perfectly. The ball spins off her fingertips in a mesmerising spiral. The Quaffle shoots towards the hoops like a star racing towards the horizon. Katie holds her breath and finds herself wishing for the ball to fly through the goal posts.

"YES!" she cheers when Oliver's fingers grasp thin air.

He laughs. "That was brill, Katie," he compliments her with admiration shining in his eyes.

"Thanks," she smiles shyly as her victorious elation fades into nervousness. A compliment from her Quidditch Captain was rare, and when it was coupled with a laugh, Katie's tummy tended to flutter with butterflies.

[-]


	93. luna&george: saucy fellow (sharing)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: One last post-war George&Luna before the month ends :)  
**

Written for "93. sharing"

27 March 2014. Pairing: George&Luna. Inspired by: Lady and the Tramp. Word Count:

**"Best first date ever!"**

* * *

**Saucy Fellow**

[-]

"You cooked me spaghetti?!" she grins happily. "George! Best first date ever!"

He laughs at her enthusiasm. "Our date has barely started - how could you possibly know that it's the best one you'll ever had?"

Luna furrows her brow. "Well . . . this is the first time I've ever been on a date," she tells him slowly. "And no one's ever cooked for me before. Daddy tends to set the kitchen on fire, so I cook for us to spare the house."

"Oh," he blinks, a bit dumbfounded by her reply. He mentally shakes his head - Luna is always full of surprises, so in all honesty, he should've expected an eccentric answer from her.

She reaches into the pot for a noodle, but he gently slaps her hand away. "Hey!" he snickers. "No eating beforehand. Go sit down at the kitchen table so I can serve you dinner."

Luna nods as if she were going to obey him, but when he is preoccupied with tossing the salad she sneaks another piece of pasta into her mouth.

"I saw that!"

"Noooo!" she squeals as George drops the salad leaves back into the bowl so his hands are free to mercilessly tickle her. He grabs her by the waist and spins her around, an adoring childish smile on his face. "You didn't see anything!" she denies.

They're both breathless from laughing too hard when they remember the spaghetti simmering on the stove. Luna peeks over George's shoulder and peers into the steamy pot. "Did you make enough?" she asks. "I don't like sharing my food." Her blue eyes immediately assess George's smirk. "Oh, no. Don't look at me like that, George. No, no, no, no, no."

"I'm a twin," he says easily. "I'm used to sharing everything." Fred died three years ago, and though George has moved on into the acceptance stage, he is still not used to referring to his brother in the past tense.

Luna shakes her head. "I won't. No sharing. Not you with other girls or my food with other people."

"Aaand the only-child syndrome strikes again," he grins. He is in the process of spooning the pasta and sauce into two bowls when Luna 'accidentally' nudges his serving arm in retaliation to his comment.

"Oops," she giggles when the marinara sauce sloshes out of the bowl and splatters his freckles so they match the same shade of his hair.

He laughs it off in typical George fashion. But soon he's throwing croutons into her hair and she's giggling as she drops ice cubes down the back of his shirt and they make a wonderful big mess of their dinner.

"Best first date ever," Luna repeats as they survey the damage they made in George's kitchen half an hour later.

George's response is to make it even better by kissing her on the lips for the first time in their relationship.

[-]


	94. james&petunia: freak (one)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer:  
**

Written for "94. one"

28 March 2014. Pairing: Petunia&James. Word Count:

**"She doesn't want to see you."**

* * *

**Freak**

[-]

When she saw a young man in a bathrobe loitering outside of her house, she knew he was up to no good. The 'magical' twig his right hand would nervously pocket every now and then confirmed Petunia's suspicions.

Petunia stomped out of her house angrily. It was seven in the morning on a Saturday. Summer was a time meant for relaxation and sleeping in. Petunia had not planned on dealing with Lily's unwanted suitor.

"You're the one, aren't you?" she spat out bitterly at the glasses-wearing hazel-eyed bloke.

He grinned cheekily. "I do hope I am The One."

She curled her lip in disgust at his ridiculously large ego and amount of self-confidence he exuded. "Leave. Now. You're just like all of those other freaks, and I don't want you corrupting Lily's life any more."

"Freaks?" he repeated sounding more amused than offended. "Yes, well, considering Snivellus is your only link to the Wizarding world, I guess I have to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Go away!" she waved him off as if he were a filthy pigeon. "Shoo!"

He sidestepped her and craned his neck to look up at the second-story windows. "Is Lily home?"

"She doesn't want to see you," Petunia responded curtly.

He laughed. "Do you even know my name or are you always this pleasant with strangers?"

A hot blush crept up the side of her neck, but Petunia firmly held her ground. "James Potter, you need to leave right this very instant."

Lily, of course, chose that moment to bound out of the front door. "James!" she said happily with starstruck eyes. "I wasn't expecting you today. You'll have to pardon my sister's atrocious behaviour." As the redhead passed her sister, she hissed: "What, exactly, were you thinking?! Be nice! Merlin, Petunia, way to ruin everything for me!"

Petunia raised her eyebrows as the two left the house grounds to do what ever freaks did with one another. Couldn't Lily see that she was only trying to protect her from that Potter freak? It was obvious to Petunia that associating with him would only result in Lily Evans' death.

[-]


	95. filch&norris: tattletale (explanations)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I am so brain dead. Saturday classes are the worst.  
**

Written for "95. explanations"

29 March 2014. Pairing: Norris&Filch. Inspired by: "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" - Robert Frost. Word Count: 433

**"Students out of bed?"  
**

* * *

**Tattletale**

[-]

"Students out of bed?" he asks me hopefully.

I'm in his arms, and although Filch may be greasy and filthy, it's much warmer up here than on the cold castle floors. I purr in an affirmative response to his question. His beady beetle-black eyes narrow in glee, and something that may be called a smile turns up the corners of his thin lips.

"Well, Mrs Norris, it looks like we've got a few punishments to dole out. You up for an adventure?"

_Meow_.

He nods. "That's what I thought." Filch gently lowers me to the ground. "Let's go."

We wander through the Hogwarts corridors together. I keep trying to tell him that he's going in the wrong direction, but he's unusually preoccupied with reciting his latest Kwikspell exam essay. The current topic is Muggle poetry which is, in all honesty, quite a bore.

"The corridors are lovely, dark, and deep / but I have promises to keep / and detentions to give before I sleep / and detentions to give before I sleep," he mumbles underneath his breath as he replaces Frost's words with his own.

He's never going to pass his Kwikspell course at this snail pace.

"Where, Mrs Norris?" he (finally!) asks me after we've been wandering the hallways for quite some time. "Where are the delinquents hiding?"

_Meow_. I point with my tail in the direction of the third floor. I'd sensed the little troublemakers a while ago, but I doubted they were still there. Filch speeds up, nonetheless, and soon we're taking the stairs two at a time in our haste to descend from the seventh floor to the third.

We creep along as silently as we can until I motion for Filch to pause. He does so, but by the light of his lantern, we see that no one is wandering about the third floor corridor except for one ghostly poltergeist. Filch sighs in disappointment.

"I demand explanations!" he yells to Peeves. As they get into one of their ridiculous rows, I zero in on one of the statues. It's a stone statue placed next to the locked door with the three-headed dog slobbering stupidly behind it. The air ripples, and for a moment I spy with my little eyes three sets of feet that don't belong there.

I try to get Filch's attention by yowling as loud as I can, but of course, he pays me no attention. He missed out on deducting lots of Gryffindor House points that night - in fact, those same three First Years managed to win the House Cup for breaking curfew.

[-]


	96. fred&hermione: hey you (handsome)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: The Fremione queen PM'd me earlier and said something about Fred thinking he is the handsomer twin.  
**

Written for "96. handsome"

29 March 2014. Pairing: Fred&Hermione. Inspired by: "Hey You" - SydneyAlice. Word Count: 550

For Bexie, the birthday girl and founder of this (insane) 100 prompt challenge. I love you, darling. (and who cares if this a day early; it's the 30th in your time zone ;)

**I don't mind when you play the hero or try to save the day.**

* * *

**Hey You  
**

[-]

Hey you.

Yeah you.

You with your crooked smile and Cheeto-dust-coloured freckles.

I think you're adorable.

Did you know that?

I think it's adorable the way you look when you first wake up. Your cheek has pillow creases imprinted on it and your eyes are bleary with the remnants of a dream you can no longer remember. Sometimes, if you do remember, you tell me what your dreams were about over tea and an English breakfast. My mornings suddenly become filled with images of blue elephants and Snape in Neville's grandmother's clothes and houses that float away on a million balloon strings. You say the most crazy and absurd things until I am giggling uncontrollably.

You tell me you like the sound of my laugh. Sometimes I think you make up the things that occurred in your dreams just so you can hear me laugh.

I don't mind. I like your laugh, too.

.

Hey you.

Yeah you.

You with your scarlet cheeks and heart of gold.

I think you're brave.

Did you know that?

I think it's brave of you to volunteer yourself for detention with Umbridge just so that the terrified Second Year will not have to. Your left hand is scarred terribly with Umbridge's lying words and I know you hate the sight of blood, yet you've sacrificed yourself to spare the little girl. And then you and George start to use your mischief-making products for the greater good by designing them so students can escape Umbridge's wrath and silly decrees. You're handing them out in the Common Room when your tired brown eyes catch mine. You avert your gaze hastily and nudge your brother who immediately hides his stash. I realise then that you two are afraid of me and my lecture about the rules.

You tell me that you're trying to protect the other students. Your _I must not tell lies_ hand unconsciously clenches into a fist so that the words glow a bleached bone white on your freckled skin.

I want to hold your hand and feel your reassuring warmth. Instead, I tell you that I don't mind what you and George do with your Skiving Snackboxes as long as you two maintain some sort of responsibility over the side-effects and injuries. You smile in relief.

I don't mind when you play the hero or try to save the day. I think a cape would look quite nice on you.

.

Hey you.

Yeah you.

You with the promises of forever and dreams of better days.

I think you're handsome.

Did you know that?

I think you're so handsome that I never want you to leave me. You've flooded a corridor with a swamp and now you're about to create a brilliant fireworks show but then you're going to go away. All I wanted was for you to stay, Fred. You smile sadly and tuck a curl behind my ear. There are whispers of 'one day' and 'forever' in my ear. You don't tell me about your dreams any more since they all revolve around the future. I know that the future scares you - it's more of a nightmare than a hopeful waking dream. You don't want to scare me. I think you love me too much to walk away. I think I love you, too.

I want to kiss you before you go. You're just so beautifully handsome that I can't help myself. I lean in only to find that you're meeting me halfway.

"Stay," I whisper to you.

"Okay," you smile.

[-]


	97. draco&luna: sunset (dim)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: the Wooden Bridge_ is_ supposed to be capitalised, according to its wiki page.  
**

Written for "97. dim"

30 March 2014. Pairing: Draco&Luna. Word Count: 221

For Bexie, the birthday girl and mastermind behind this (het-tastic) 100 prompt challenge. Sending you all my love today!

**"I think I like the moon better."  
**

* * *

**Sunset**

[-]

"I don't understand what is so romantic about watching the sun set," he says belligerently. Starting off a conversation with an argument is the only way Draco knows how to successfully converse with other people. Small talk really isn't his forte.

Luna smiles at the difficult Slytherin boy with the close-minded brain. "It has more to do with the metaphysical and abstract concepts," she explains in her vague, wispy voice.

He doesn't understand. "But . . . this is so _boring_," the Second Year says. "We're just sitting here on this rickety Wooden Bridge while not doing a single thing. The air is cold and the mosquitoes are biting and nothing is happen -"

"Shh."

"-ing. What, now you want me to be quiet? Why? There's nothing to listen to."

"Draco, shh."

"But I don't get it. What's the point of this? We're watching a great big fiery ball dim its light as it sinks beneath the horizon - big deal. It happens every night, you know. There's no need to get so excited about tonight's sunset."

"Look," she interrupts, and points at the bleeding horizon.

Draco looks but does not see the same natural beauty that Luna is seeing. Instead, he glances at the starstruck-sunset-watching girl sitting beside him and mumbles to himself: "I think I like the moon better."

[-]


	98. seamus&hermione: toil & trouble(idiotic)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I feel like Second Year Hermione would blame other people for a Potions disaster...  
**

Written for "98. idiotic"

Seamus and Hermione are brewing the Swelling Solution.

30 March 2014. Pairing: Seamus&Hermione. Word Count: 136

**How idiotic can you be?  
**

* * *

**Toil and Trouble  
**

[-]

How idiotic can you be?

Didn't you realise that the puffer-fish eyes were looking a bit _expired_ when you pulled them out of the ingredients' cupboard? Didn't you notice that the fire underneath your cauldron was not set to the proper temperature? Did you not strain the brine from the eyeballs and stir them in a clockwise motion for three turns and then counterclockwise for five turns?

Why weren't you listening to Professor Snape when he went over the brewing procedures? Why didn't you clean out your cauldron before you used it? (Why were we even assigned to be partners?)

How did you manage to mess up a one-ingredient potion? Why weren't you paying attention to your brew? Why did your potion explode in a fiery mess?

Did you even bother to read the recipe, Seamus?

[-]


	99. draco&ginny: romeo (wishful thinking)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I have Shakespeare on my mind.  
**

Written for "99. wishful thinking"

30 March 2014. Pairing: Ginny&Draco. Inspired by: "Love Story" - Taylor Swift. Word Count: 292

**"Please don't go," the princess begged her prince.  
**

* * *

**Romeo  
**

[-]

They were both young when they first saw each other. Four blue eyes met underneath a trellis of roses in a moonlit garden. He bowed like the true gentleman that he was and asked "May I have this dance?". She, of course, said yes.

He twirled her around in a white-washed gazebo that was in the middle ground between their families' properties. They waltzed to the symphony of bullfrogs and crickets and the perfume of June trailing roses in the summer night air. Their dances and meetings were their special little secret, for they were from two different Houses and their families were arch-nemeses.

As expected, they fell in love against their parents' wishes. And, predictably, they paid the price. It was foolish wishful thinking on their part to believe they could evade their parents' wrath.

The Malfoys cut of his inheritance and disowned their son for falling in love with a blood traitor. Her daddy, big bad Arthur Weasley, did not appreciate her sneaking out to meet up with the Malfoy heir in the middle of the night. He told Draco to stay away from Ginny and forbade the two to ever see each other again. But Draco was everything to Ginny, and so she rebelled against her parents.

"Please don't go," the princess begged her prince. "This love is difficult but it's so real."

He smiled softly and kissed the back of her hand. "Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess."

"I'll wait for you," Ginny said. "Forever, if I must."

He wasn't Romeo and she wasn't Juliet even though they were both re-enacting their very own love story. The two star-crossed lovers wrote in their own happily ever after as a storybook ending to their fairytale.

[-]


	100. sirius&marlene: jump (astronomy)

**Author's Note:  
Disclaimer: I'm going to end this monster collection with my OTP :)  
**

To the exquisitely beautiful and wild soul reading this ~ if you've made it all the way to the end of Ides of March and have survived, would you do me the immense honour and leave a review (or more) and tell me which drabble was your favourite? It would be very much appreciated. 40k+ words in a month - are you as tired as I am? merci beaucoup for reading, favouriting, reviewing, or lurking! xoxo Safari

Written for "100. astronomy"

31 March 2014. Pairing: Sirius&Marlene. Inspired by: "Jump" - Van Halen. Word Count: 315

**"Just because you're named after a star doesn't necessarily mean _you_ are the star."**

* * *

**Jump  
**

[-]

"I'm stellar," he brags.

Marlene eyes him sceptically. "Uh-huh," she agrees because no matter what her answer is, Sirius Black will end up arguing with her.

"I'm made up of antimatter," he proclaims self-importantly. "Full of the gaseous stuff that nebulae and stars are made up of."

"Well _that_ explains your over-inflated ego," is her dry remark.

Sirius ignores his girlfriend. "I'm like a cosmic ray. Ecliptic and magnetic. You feel my gravitational pull, don't you?"

"You do realise I have no idea what the hell you're blathering on about?"

Sirius frowns. "Pay more attention in Astronomy, then, Marley! That's my history you're missing out on."

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks down at him. He's lying on the floor of the Astronomy Tower and looking at the stars through the glassless windows. She's leaning against the stone wall and observing her self-centred boyfriend with a look of equal parts exasperation and amusement. "Just because you're named after a star doesn't necessarily mean _you_ are the star."

He scrambles up and is suddenly right in front of her. "Of _course_ that's what it means," he grins excitedly. Sirius drags her excitedly over to the window so that they have a clearer view of the night sky. He points out the major constellations to her, including Canis Major. "I belong out there," he says.

She wraps her arms around his waist and presses kisses along his shoulder blades in an angel's wing pattern. "You belong here on the ground, Sirius."

"Sometimes, I want to jump, just to prove that I can fly."

Unconsciously, Marlene holds him a little tighter as if he is going to leap off the ledge at any given moment. "I'll always be here to catch you," she promises.

One day, though, she isn't. He tries to catch her before she falls but that was never part of their plan.

[-]


End file.
